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
"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