Mother's Bad Date • Secure

“Comma the cat.”

She was back by 8:47.

She sat down at the kitchen table, cradling the ice cream like a newborn. “He spent the first twenty minutes explaining why he doesn’t ‘believe’ in mood lighting. Said it’s deceptive. Like a menu with no prices.” mother's bad date

“Did you at least get a good story out of it?” I asked. “Comma the cat

“He asked the waitress for a ‘protein-forward’ salad. Then he sent it back because the avocado was ‘too ripe.’ He said ripe avocados are the gaslighters of the produce world.” Said it’s deceptive

I knew it was bad before she even opened the door. I heard the sigh—the particular sigh of a woman who has just watched a man eat soup with a dessert spoon. She walked in, kicked off her heels, and went straight to the freezer for the emergency pint of pistachio ice cream.