One Step Forward, Too Many to Count Back

Chapter One 

ID: 1642182   (Rated: 18+) My Cartoon Life  An inside look into the thing I like to call - my life. by aralls my RS frontierman!

Chapter 2

As I dug into my purse for the emergency twenty dollars I always have, I could feel not only “Dream Date Ken” staring at me, but also the smirking prepubescent cashier.  Just wait a few decades, Honey.  Your time will come.  I think she caught those brainwaves, because she quickly handed me my change not meeting my challenging stare.

“Hey, you wanna just hold on to the money in case you wanna Slurpee or cotton candy later?”  My voice was dripping with sarcasm as I pushed the money into Ken’s hand.

“You're so sweet.”

The man was clueless.  How in the world do you go on a first date with no money and  take your date to the one place she deplores?  I mean, honestly, the zoo?  That’s not even original.  Not to mention the fact he knew I hated it!

Yet, for some reason I found my feet moving step by step into the threshold of animal feces, screaming children, and young lovers that are too stupid to know better.  My brain said run, but my empty purse reminded me I paid for this torture.

“Do you have a penny?” Ken’s voice broke into my thoughts. 

“I’m pretty sure you have my money.  Besides, trust me.  You don’t want to know what I'm thinking.”

“Huh?”

“You know, ‘a penny for your thoughts’.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“No, Ken, I meant . . . Never mind. “

“I thought we could make a wish in the wishing well,” he whispered as he put his arms around my waist. 

“Hmm, well it’s a thought.  At this point it couldn't hurt,” I responded as I smoothly slithered out of the cocoon of his embrace.

I don’t remember what exactly I wished for, something like imminent death or an alien abduction.  Definitely, something positive though.

As we walked through the mass of mothers with strollers and kids pulling little red wagons with even more kids in them, Ken talked.  And he talked, and he talked.  I have no idea about what.  I was distracted; not by the people around us, I’m used to tuning out hellions.  After all I teach middle school.  But the thing my thoughts kept drifting to was the fact that with each step, Ken’s pants kept getting a little lower.  Not like the I’m-a-wanna-be-gansta style; but more like he’d lost a few pounds recently, and they were just loose - really loose.  He was so into the conversation he was literally having with himself that he didn’t notice. 

One of the darlings in the stroller dropped her Sippy cup; accidently, I’m sure.  Being the gentleman that I’d come to realize Ken was, he bent to pick it up.  Holy Moon Over Miami!  There was not even a triangle of underwear there.  It was Butts-R-Us.  Instinctively, I looked away trying to rid my mind of the visual that I was sure would haunt my dreams even on my death bed.

At least he finally pulled them up as he stood.  Maybe now I wouldn’t feel like I was on a date with an over-aged Vanilla Ice. 

“Ken, may I ask you something personal?”  I knew I didn’t want to know the answer but I couldn’t stop myself.

Raising an eyebrow, he leaned in much too close.  “Anything, Baby.  I’m an open book waiting for you to pour over my words.”

“Are you wearing underwear?”  Tact never has been my strong suit.

“Never, Baby.  Do you like it?”  His grin reminded me of the way a weasel looks as it sucks down the last egg in a nest.

Bewildered as to why my mouth wouldn’t obey my mind and stay closed, I answered.  “You do realize you are wearing shorts. . . at the zoo . . . in 95 degree weather . . . 100% humidity . . . around children . . . and ME?”

He winked.  I swear on all the panda bears in the universe, he winked at me.

“Ken, I’m just going to state the obvious.  You're going to sweat, a lot.  Hence, making your woo-ha and friends sweaty and sticky.  Not that I would know, but I can’t imagine that would be comfortable.”

“We can take care of that problem later, Doll.”

As I’m trying to process what he just implied, God granted me a gift.  I caught my toe on a crack in the sidewalk.  Stumbling forward, Ken reached to catch me.  Repulsed by his touch, I jerked away landing square on my ass. 

Holding my already swelling ankle, I offered a silent prayer to the Good Lord.  Thank you for giving me this mild injury that has me wanting to puke from pain, so that I might not kill with my bare hands this idiot I met on the internet that is delusional enough to think that I would want to clean his sweaty balls.  Amen.”