My First Date
It was a pleasant Saturday morning when I woke up. Half-asleep, I went to the bathroom, took a bath to wake up myself from my post-slumber. I merrily did my morning routine and as I went down to our kitchen to feed a seemingly growling lion which I call my stomach, I couldn’t help but sneer for I knew that something worth remembering would happen later that day. “First date,” I said, “my very first one… with her.”
As I ate my not-so-yummy cereals for my breakfast, I constantly checked the time. 9:00 am… 9:13 am... 9:16 am... Time seemed really sluggish that day, I thought. Maybe it really was, or maybe not. After eating, I went upstairs, opened my closet, and drawn out clothes one by one. “What am I supposed to wear?” I said to myself, still pulling out some clothes. Should I wear black? But it seemed so metal so… no. “How about… green?” No. Despite the color hurdle I’ve been through, I found myself ironing a blue polo shirt. Then it came. The plan was to pick her up after lunch at her house. Wearing the blue polo I just leveled, I went to her house. This is the start of a seemingly magical date, well, for me that is.
As I was walking towards the junction of the street where she lives, I was already practicing the lines I would say in front of her and her family. When I reached their front door, I anxiously knocked. But before doing so, I hesitated for like three times. Yet I was there, there’s no turning back now, I thought. I took a deep breath as her mother opened the door. “Hello po.. Mrs. *insert her surname here*.” She smiled at me and then shouted at her back that I was already there. She offered me to take a seat inside, and since I’ve got no choice, I went ahead and helped myself. I just remembered that I was happy for three reasons back then. Reason one is that her father’s not home. Reason two is that her mother seemed really kind. And reason three, because it’s my first freaking date! Anyway, what happened next was something even...
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