It was a hot August night when I went on a blind date to Denny’s with a pretty cute guy. When he parked the car, he hit the concrete block jerking us both forward and I said, “Well, I guess this means we’re here.”
Last weekend we went to a movie as Cute Guy declared it Date Night. When it was time to go, he went out the door first and then let it fly in my face. I got in the car and told him that when Barack and Michelle go on a date, I bet he doesn’t let the door hit her on the way out. He said, “Barack doesn’t even have to hold the door open for himself let alone his wife.”
After the movie, we walked to the parking lot and wandered around for a bit because neither one of us remembered where we parked the car. Thirty three years after that Denny’s date, we’re still a couple of smart asses trying to find our way.