He wasn't very discreet about it either. Anyway, Guy found and killed a nest of opossums inconveniently living in my refrigerator. Then one thing led to another, and I agreed to go on a date with him if he stopped breaking into my house to plant rabid and/or otherwise dangerous animals in my kitchen appliances. There was a contract, no loopholes, he signed it.
My point is, it's been a while and there's a reason for that.
A long time ago, there was this man, Manny. We met when our boss partnered us up on a mission to catch some guy in Germany who was killing a bunch of Jewish people. At first, I didn't like him and he didn't like me. He thought I was an incompetent woman who belonged in a kitchen cooking my husband a meal and making babies for him to belittle. I thought he was a simple-minded bullet brain who deserved nothing less than getting shot in the war so that his family would think he was a hero, even though it was friendly fire from a group of men who couldn't stand being around him anymore. We argued with each other more than a room full of men fighting over the last slice of pizza. The disagreements we had would have put cats and dogs to shame.
Then, something happened. Manny and I got comfortable around each other. We had jokes no one else understood, moments where we would open up to one another, and the disagreements we had became laughable. We actually began to enjoy one another's company. As we neared the end of our mission, we confessed our feelings for each other. We worked so well together that, after we finished our mission, we decided to become a permanent team.
Manny and I never went on an actual date until the end of our eleventh mission as a team. I won't say exactly what happened, but, I will say that we never saw each other again after that night. It was literally the worst date I had ever been on and until now, the last.
I heard the door bell ring, walked out of the bathroom and to the door.
But, it wasn't my date on the other side.
(To be continued...)
