Date Number One - Morgan - Page One

 Woohoo!!! The "Meet Charles" experiment has officially started. The first lucky girl to go on a date with our very own eligible bachelor is a 20 year old woman by the name of Morgan. 

   As promised, Charles showed up at her doorstep, followed by little old me, with my little old camera, and a little old notebook with which to pry into their magical evening. On that note, let's begin.

7:15 PM: We arrive at Morgan's home. Charles knocks on the door, and we're greeted by a large man suffering from the early stages of male-pattern baldness. He informs us that Morgan is not home, and we should return at around 9 o'clock.

7:20 PM: As we sit in my car pondering places to spend the next few hours loitering, I notice through their window that Morgan is in fact home. So we return to the door and knock again. It seems the bald man, so distraught with the loss of his hair, just forgot that his step-daughter was in fact in her room. Isn't that special.

I can't tell if Charles is blushing, or having an aneurysm. I'm not sure it matters.

7:23PM: Before getting into our car, she threatens us with large knives, and makes us promise not to rape and kill her. This seems fair enough. We promise, she puts down the knives, and off we go.

7:25 - 7:50 PM: We enjoy a long car ride, where Morgan shares with us small bits of her sexual past. She also surprises us with her wit. One of my favorite anecdotes from the trip involved her opinion on people in college who major in drama: 

"Go back to Prague, you art-fag bastards!"

First she pulls knives on us, then she wants to play pool. Penis envy, anyone?

7:51PM: We arrive at a pool hall Morgan suggested. Between the car ride and the first game of 9-ball, we learn that Morgan is almost never NOT on some sort of prescription drug. Today it was Percocet. She also tells us just how kinky she is. She said she only has a few hard-limits as to things she would absolutely not do. She said she is not into bestiality, and refused to do things with small children. I asked her how she felt about 8 year olds with elephantitus. She wasn't amused.

8:15PM: Angered by the pool hall's "No Smoking" rule, she went outside to have a cigarette. Charles kept her company, while I sat at our table writing snide comments in my notes about our conversations so far. Most all of them were completely un-usable. I cried.

8:32PM: She insists on us playing a game she invented called "Ghetto-Ball"... I wont go into the rules, the name about says it all. I win though, so there's something.

8:45PM: Morgan, who sprained her wrist earlier in the day, couldn't play pool anymore. She asked us if we'd "be dolls", and take her to a place where she could have a peppermint milkshake and smoke at the same time. We agree, and thus starts a 45 minute car ride.

Next Page - The Diner

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