Thread by @camcamdamn

The world is a terrible place today, and I want to make you smile, just once.
So this ridiculous tale is absolutely true, and about the second worst date I ever went on. (My worst date is a story that I will be telling when Armageddon hits, and not before.)
Here I go.

The Finger Licker

This story happened around two years ago when I met a young man for lunch in a restaurant in Aberdeen. This was no Tinder date. This was a bona-fide blind date set up by a mutual friend, who I can only assume thought we would be perfect for one another. 1/

The young man was attractive. He liked Marvel. I too, like Marvel. He liked sci fi. I like sci fi. He liked Drake. I like... sounds. We chat. We laugh. So far, so good.
First impressions are important, and it appears we both passed the initial test stage.
Then it happened. 2/

Our food arrived. I'd ordered duck salad, he selected houmous. (Side note: seeing your meals approach is the best of all natural highs, no?)
Now, I tend to get food envy -- order a meal with me anywhere, and I'll always end up wanting yours. I joked about wanting his. MISTAKE. 3/

No, he didn't go all Joey from Friends and refuse to share food. I wish.
No, he didn't stare at me like I was mad. No awkward silence. I wish.
No, I didn't start to choke on an errant piece of duck, requiring him to perform the Heimlich. I wish.
IT WAS SO MUCH WORSE. 4/

Instead, he asked if I wanted to try his houmous.
You're thinking: "WHAT? THAT'S IT?!" Wait for it.
I agreed, maybe a tad more enthusiastically than a lady should when offered food on a blind date.
And I eagerly waited for him to spoon some houmous on my plate. He did not. 5/

Instead he put two of his fingers in the houmous pot, swirled them, and then, as if in slow motion, he leaned over and held out his houmous-coated fingers to me, with a seductive smile.

"Go on," he said, in a voice he probably imagined to be husky and inviting. "Try some." 6/

Note: I adore houmous. But there is no way on this planet, or any other, that
I would ever lick a stranger's fingers to get some. Never. No.
So I refused. I was polite but very, very firm.
But still he held out his fingers, his face expectant, ignoring my blank expression. 7/

By that point, I was panicking, mostly because my brain is my own worst enemy.
You see, when the date began, he had gone to the bathroom.
Now his fingers were beneath my nose, he was asking me to lick them, and all I could think was:
"Did you wash your hands?" 8/

And still he waited, houmous-handed, eager-eyed.
In my head, I'd already nicknamed him the Finger Licker.
This had an unexpected result. I thought of the phrase "finger-lickin' good", you know, the KFC advert.
BAM!
One Week by the Barenaked Ladies started playing in my head. 9/

Please don't ask me why. Maybe it was the awkwardness. Maybe I was panicking. Maybe it was a defence mechanism. Who knows?
But my brain utterly betrayed me and I started to sing it.
"Chickedy China, the Chinese chicken, you have a drumstick and your head stops tickin..." 10/

There we were, his houmous covered fingers still outstretched as though to a dog, and a slowly dawning expression of horror on his face, and me, singing away in a wavering voice, half terrified, half-fake cheery, warbling over the half remembered lyrics of a dreadful song. 11/

All of this in the middle of the restaurant.
His hand went down, I warbled into silence, and we began to eat. Nobody had ever eaten a meal faster than us
When the server offered us dessert, we both yelled "NO!" way too loudly.
The bill arrived.
We'd both forgotten our wallets.

Instantly both of us stared, terrified, suspicious.
I'd already decided the Finger Licker was the worst man I'd ever met, so I suspected he had deliberately forgotten his money so I would pay. (I always go Dutch.) Judging by his expression, he suspected the same of me.

I ended up transferring money by BACs via my phone (this was before Apple Pay went mainstream).
We left one another with an awkward hug - we really didn't want to touch each other...

So here's the upshot. I'm on social media, posting about the weirdo who tried to get me to lick his fingers on a first date. He's probably posting about the freak who randomly started singing songs in the middle of the restaurant.

Maybe we were perfect for each other after all.

To the Finger Licker, if you're reading this: I'm sorry I sang "One Week" by the Bare Naked Ladies in the middle of a crowded restaurant. No date could ever survive that.
I hope you found a woman who considered herself lucky to lick dip from your fingers. ❤❤