I was on a date with a woman who kept checking her phone. Checking to see if her babysitter had sent any messages.
She apologised, saying, “Sorry, but you know how it is.”
I said, “Sure,” but that could not be further from the truth. I’ve never had a foetus gestate under my gut and then push its way through my urethra, only for the man of my dreams to fuck off, leaving me to raise the cherub on my own. I consider that an unlikely set of events.
We kept talking, about nothing. I find it weird how small talk takes up a large amount of people’s time. She asked questions like “Where do you live, what do you do, do you have any hobbies,” that kind of stuff.
I told her I live in Bendigo, that I’m self-employed, and I’m a writer. She checked her phone and it started ringing.
“Hello,” she said. “Oh god, okay I’ll be there.”
She told me that her child was vomiting and she had to go home.
I was okay with that.
Mum said my date probably invented the illness so she could get out of the date.
I said, “Who would invent an illness for their child to avoid spending time with someone?”
Mum said, “If it was to avoid spending time with you, plenty of people would make their child sick.”
I thought that was rough.
Then Mum said, “Anyway, she probably didn’t even have a kid.”
What kind of parent would create a fake illness for a child to avoid a date? Worse, what kind of parent invents a child, and gives them a fake illness to avoid a date? What if she believed in voodoo and had given a doll a fake illness, but in real life somewhere a child was sick so she could get away from me? The makes me feel really guilty.
Mostly though, I wondered what kind of friend calls someone to give that kind of information?
I guess the answer is a good friend. It must be nice to have a friend a like that. Good for her.