I met her in the doorway of her parent's house. . .the blind date that is. I don't know how many blind dates I've been on, but somebody should give me a seeing-eye dog.
"Hi! This is Betsy. She's what we call special. "
I spent the night under the impression Miss Betsy was from Eastern Europe. A unibrow, larger-than-normal brow ridges, a thick accent, and a constant desire to mutter led me to believe Eastern Romania, perhaps the bad section of Bucharest. Later, she told me she was from New jersey and English was her native tongue. I acted shocked, but acting was never one of my strong points. Betsy didn't seem to notice as she did most of the
bragging talking, especially about her new bifocals. Interesting glasses these bifocals. They were made by the same company that developed the Hubble Space telescope. As the night wore on swiftly passed by, it became evident that this wonderful woman had led a remarkable life the past 40? 30? 20 or so years. She had met famous actresses and world leaders, traveled to exotic locations, helped discover the Titanic. . .just fascinating. Only she kept blinking alot and when pressed for details she became fuzzy with a difficulty for remembering exact dates. At midnight, I implored God Almighty mused on whether or not she would turn into a beautiful frog. (I would have said toad, but everybody knows. . .toads are male, frogs-female.) As this would be a step up in the beauty scale. Don't get me wrong, but on a scale from 1-10, Betsy gets the negative square root of 2.
Memo to self: e-mail that Richard Branson's daughter
I should say the night was not a total loss, as it makes a pretty good blog entry.
(OK. So, maybe the above short never actually took place-but it could have.)