Last night my mom and I went out for dinner. Our waitress happened to be an attractive blonde who tried to up-sell us on the happy hour menu. If she hadn’t been so cute, I might have passed because I’m not keen on getting buzzed with my mom at dinner. Instead, I opted for sangria.

We had to ask for our checks right when the food arrived because we had to catch a movie.

“What are you seeing?” the waitress asked. When we told her, she said she was supposed to see it last night, but her date couldn’t get into it - “he was too touchy and talkative,” she laughed, and here she touched my shoulder - so they left to go to a bar. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring when she touched me and the way she said “date” indicated detachment.