Date Rash

You know when you are just having one of those days (weeks, months, years) and try as you might, nothing seems to go how you want it to? It may not happen often, but when it does, it really throws ya for a serious loop and you start to question everything. I had one of those months a few weeks back, one particular couple of days were really bad. I  kept trying to ignore the signs of it and going on as usual, yeah, that did not work. My body literally broke down on me and screamed "Woman, what the fuck? Take a rest or something."

I felt it coming on and tried so hard to brush it off and then it hit me. I laid down on the couch, after hours of feeling sick as can be and started praying to god. I was convinced I might die. I could not move, eat, drink, talk (that's when you know there is a real problem), NOTHING at all. So, I lay. I slept, I sweat, I even cried a little, I slept and sweat some more and then it was finally the next day. With the new day, came a little bit better feeling. I could even get some water and a smoothie down.

In the midst of all of this chaos, I was asked on a date, but let me clarify, in my head, it wasn't like a real date, it was like a bro date, a bro I hadn't met yet, but still a bro and I was sure I could pull that off.

Yeah, well I do recognize that generally when normal people are having one of those weeks/days, they probably don't make plans or decide to send out any important emails, texts or phone calls, etc. etc. etc. (I don't think I did the last three things). This girl doesn't operate like normal people and I just could not not plan a date. Oh and did I tell you that along with feeling totally off, I was also late for like everything. I hate being late.

Anyway, it was no bro date day (two days after life was kicking my ass) and things were starting to feel much better. I even think that I may be at the tail end of this ass kicking thing, I am only running a few minutes late.

As I am frantically trying to wrangle the dogs together and get my ass out the door, I notice a little trail of red dots from the inside of my wrist leading up to the top of my hand and I think oh fuck, a rash. I quickly look at my other hand, same thing. I look down, both feet have this red, tight, hot rash thing going on, but it doesn't appear to be anywhere else, so I think, fuck it, I'll just cross my arms and hide my feet, no big deal, I can do this, coffee is a breeze, if anything this could be a gnarly birth mark or something and most people would be too chicken to say anything anyway.

I am now rashy and 7 minutes late. I park in a 90 minute parking spot, thinking, there is no way we will hang longer than that. I walk around the corner to the packed coffee shop and begin to worry. I think to myself omg, what if this dude is cross eyed, what eye will I look into? What if he is a midget? What if he is really fat? What if he is really old? What if he doesn't even show? So, many what ifs to think about.



I get a text altering me that he is there, I look up and he is right next to me. Alls I can do is laugh and tell him how creepy that was and it's totally my kind of creepy.

Ok, so we have made contact, so far so good, but I am not in the clear yet, we still need to sit down and have a conversation. We find a nice table outside and I strategically stick my feet under the table or his chair (alternating like a normal person would) and the hands go in the arm pits mostly and voila, he is none the wiser.

I think to myself, there is no way, he didn't notice this rash, but nothing was said. Two plus hours later, I exclaim, fuck I gotta move my car, but we talk more, finally I need to leave, so we bid each other adeiu and walk our separate ways and yup, I totally got a parking ticket. Doh.

I guess coffee with the bro went well because I was asked out again.. It took us a few weeks to coordinate our schedules (that's a whole other story), but it happened. I was so excited to see if bro would try to sneak a peak at my hands and feet, searching for evidence of rash or birthmark or something. I had a really funny vision of him trying to check the hands and feet out in my head.

He picked me up (I won't even get into it about the car), second thing out of my mouth was "so, did you notice I had a hand and foot rash when we met?" and began laughing hysterically. He laughed too and said no, he would not have even known. Dude, if I can totally pull a date off with a rash, I can do anything.

And no, he did not get a parking ticket.