My Date with a Minotaur

December 1, 2010 § 1 Comment

He rolled up to my front door on foot and, instead of knocking, he kicked the door with his hoof until I answered. He had already managed to knock a hole though the wood. He was wearing a tie and a jacket with tails. No pants. He insisted I ride on his shoulders to the restaurant.

He took me to a place with a spectacular view of the bay. When the waitress came over for our order, he requested a giraffe. She explained that this was a raw bar and they only served seafood so he demanded a manatee. When she told him that was impossible and that manatees are endangered, he ate the waitress.

We moved to a steakhouse where he awkwardly slurped his 1787 Chateau Lafite and talked about labyrinths the size of Texas and how the Greeks are always building wooden animals which always have something to do with fornication somehow. I listened while picking at my spinach. He eyed my bone-in ribeye. I offered him half, but he was only interested in the bone.

When he walked me to my door he went in for the end-of-date kiss. I figured I’d go for it because how many girls can say they’ve kissed a minotaur, but I was put off by a bit of waitress snagged in his teeth.

I heard years later that he met a nice Clydesdale…

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