Brantley and I had a date night on Friday. We went to the movies to see Bridesmaids, which was hilarious, and when the movie let out it was pouring down raining. Like a perfect gentleman, Brantley set out to retrieve the car so he could pick me up at the door and I wouldn’t have to get wet. (I don’t believe in umbrellas, but that’s a story for another time.) He pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the theater, reached across the passenger seat, and flung the door open. “Get in!” he shouted, but I didn’t…because it wasn’t me. A few feet away from me stood a girl wearing an outfit similar to mine, who most likely thought she was about to fall victim to the laziest kidnapper of all time.
I stood watching all of this from afar and, after he realized his error, he pulled up to where I was standing. “Was she not interested?” I asked. “Negative,” he responded, “But you’ll do.”
It was a truly romantic evening.