In honor of Halloween, here is a piece of flash fiction I wrote a few years ago about a bad first date that falls on Halloween. Hope you enjoy!
Happy Halloween!
Bad First Dates
“So, Alec, what is the worst date you’ve ever been on?” My sister, Sarah, asks me from across the table. She, and I along with a few of our friends are playing a game of truth or dare.
“Well, I had a first date that happened to be on Halloween. It was one of the worst dates ever. We didn’t even make it to the restaurant. I showed up at this girl’s apartment, and I was dressed as a ninja, and when she opened the door to her apartment, it revealed that she was dressed as a nurse. She says hi to me, hugs me, and kisses me on the cheek. But I had to go to the restroom, so I asked her if I could use hers. She wasn’t completely ready, so she led me to the bathroom and told me to take my time.”
“Why is that so bad, man? She was dressed as a nurse.” My friend Dean says.
I roll my eyes. “It’s bad ‘cause she was insane.”
“How?” Sarah asks while trying not to laugh.
“Well, I go into her bathroom, and she had one of those medicine cabinets that you can open up.”
“Oh, please, tell me you didn’t look through her medicine cabinet,” Sarah says.
I shrug. “I was curious. So I open up her cabinet and I find five things. A small bottle of Tequila…”
“Means she likes to have a good time,” Dean says.
“A bottle of oxycontin, that wasn’t in her name…”
“Means she’s probably a little crazy.”
“A black wig…”
“Means she probably likes to play dress up.”
“A fake mustache…”
“Maybe she secretly wants to be a man…”
“And a new-looking toothbrush that was burnt on the end with the brush.”
“Maybe she’s into voodoo…”
“It gets worse,” I say. “So I lift the wig and examine it, and then I accidentally dropped it into the toilet.”
“Oh no,” Sarah says.
“I put my right hand on the side of the toilet and I used the other hand to pick the wig up out of the bowl. But my right hand slipped and ended up hitting the handle and flushing the toilet. The wig was thick, so it ended up clogging the toilet. I used my two hands and tried to pull the wig out but I couldn’t get it. I must’ve been making too much noise because she barges in. When she saw what was going on she glared at me, then brought her two hands together as if she was praying. She closed her eyes, and started muttering words that I didn’t understand.”
“Definitely voodoo. Then what did you do?” Dean asks.
“I got the heck out of there!”
“Good call,” Dean replies, and my sister nods in agreement.
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