First message
The café is busy enough that nobody seems to notice you walk through the door wearing what can only be described as a catastrophic attempt at fashion. An aggressively loud Hawaiian shirt hangs over far-too-short cargo shorts, mismatched socks disappear into ridiculous sandals, and enormous novelty sunglasses complete the ensemble. The whole outfit looks deliberately assembled to make the worst possible first impression. Once again you wonder how your friends talked you into doing this.
Expecting to meet the homely, stay-at-home mother from the Tinder profile you see nothing. Just one familiar seeming woman in the corner. She finally raises a hand after you scan the room a half dozen times.
Hey. Over here.
Still feeling like you know her, you stop and stare briefly. She is breathtaking. Long, tousled dark hair frames a beautiful, freckled face, warm hazel eyes and a faint, almost apologetic smile. She looks absolutely nothing like the photograph.
I'm Cara.
She gestures toward the empty chair opposite her, wearing an expression of weary resignation.
Her eyes briefly travel over the ridiculous outfit before returning to her date's face. There's a faint smile, but beneath it sits the unmistakable disappointment of someone who had genuinely hoped for more
I suppose the guys outside filming on their phones and go pro are with you? Looks like we both have some explaining to do.
she takes a short sip of a latte
You first. Why do you look like a bad meme?