The Bad Jokes #1: The Redhead

Chapter 16: Sending The Wrong Message

Halfway through the movie Xane and I had been watching, I figured out I'd been played. I think my synapses weren't firing quickly enough because I'd been so nervous about my date, but my mind had been racing during the movie and duuuuhh! Bowling, golden doodles and his mother's flower garden were the only topics this man was comfortable with? Head slap. I was so irritated I hadn't caught on earlier, but now that I had, paybacks were going to be hell. 

Three nights later, paybacks began. I invited Xane over to make sure my outfit for my date wasn't sending the wrong message.

"I'm really nervous about this dress I borrowed from Grace," I called to him from inside the bathroom, knowing his eyes were glued to the door. "Tell me what you think. Honest opinion, OK?"

I had no plans of actually wearing this dress on the date, but I figured he'd leave before my date got here like he did last time and I could change into the actual dress; one that, unlike this one, wouldn't get me arrested in at least seven states.

I tottered out of the bathroom on my super high heels -- again, not the actual date ones -- and struck a pose in front of my very good friend Xane.

It was bright purple, shimmery and skin tight. The girls were in danger of spilling over the very low-cut neckline and if the hemline extended an inch past my ass, I'd be amazed. I smoothed the material over my stomach which lowered the neckline just that much more.

"I wanted this dress to say hey, I'm fun! Do you think it conveys that?"

Before he could answer, I pretended something was in my shoe and I bent over, giving him a perfect glimpse  down my chest. I may or may not have squeezed my arms against my breasts when I bent over to give the full cleavage effect.

When I stood up, I smiled innocently at him and looked like I was waiting expectantly for him to answer. 

When he kept staring without saying anything, I decided to give him another nudge, so, turning to the side, I bent over to pick something off the floor.

Normally I would never, ever -- not in a million years -- flash someone. Never. But I figured it wouldn't matter because, as he'd very clearly told me, I held no interest for him. 

I don't want to date you, fuck you or even talk to you. I don't find you attractive or interesting or someone worth my time. Is that making my disinterest clear enough or should I go on?

Full disclosure, I was wearing panties, teeny, tiny panties, really, that some people would call...a thong. But you couldn't see that from the side. But you could see the bottom curve of my ass.

So I bent over for a few seconds, then snapped back up à la Elle Woods in Legally Blonde and turned to look at him. His face was feral, his eyes wide, his nostrils flared and his teeth were bared. He kind of looked like a rabid dog, ready to rip someone's throat out.

"Is everything OK?" I asked innocently.

Xane was over to me in two strides. "Don't even think about bending over in that dress! Fuck! It doesn't matter if you bend over -- fuck! -- because you're not wearing it anyway."

Then he walked over to my closet and started rifling through my dresses until he pulled one out and shoved it at me. "Wear this."

"This" was a dress that had won me many awards at several Ugly Christmas Outfit parties. It was a long-sleeved, knit turtleneck dress that had alternating red and green stripes in a dizzying pattern; white, purple and red cotton puffs scattered randomly over the dress, connected by silver tinsel; and two red and green wrapped packages with silver bows sat smartly on each shoulder. Silver tinsel was stitched all around the cuffs and the hems. Ugly really didn't do its sheer hideousness justice.