The Blind Date WC 289

The Blind Date
WC 289

As soon as night fell, I knew I was in trouble. I was in the middle of nowhere and storm clouds gathered in the distance.

A woman walking alone after dark is a sketchy proposition, especially under these circumstances, but I had no choice. My blind date turned out to be a hot mess; Prince Charming spewed a string of obscenities, along with a few punches to my arm for no clear reason other than he was certifiably bananas.

I sure know how to pick them.

Anyway, I ended up jumping out of his moving car, just like in the movies. Unlike the heroine in the story who jumps up and runs off to rescue the day, I twisted my ankle, bruised my ribs, and lay prone on the gravel shoulder. I struggled to my feet when I realized I couldn’t lie there forever.

I had limped along the road for about a mile when the first drop of icy rain slapped my cheek. Then another, and another. The November wind slashed at my torn silk blouse and soggy linen slacks. Unfortunately, my coat was in his car.

At least I had my purse; I held it over my head for protection. My phone had flown out when I jumped and rolled, so I couldn’t call for help. I had money and credit cards, but they would do me no good in this situation.

If/when I get back home, I intend to write a nasty letter to that dating website, and then one to our local newspaper about the dangers of online dating. And, then, maybe I’ll notify the police…or the FBI…or go all the way to the White House.

I know, I know...

Stupid is as stupid does.