I went on an ice cream date last week, and maybe it’s just me, but it’s a lot messier than one would expect.
I’ve learned that being a Krista is hard work. If I wear white and eat Italian food, I will get red sauce on something. Chocolate milk? Thanks for the mustache.
These minor embarrassments have prepared me really well for first dates.
Unfortunately, this guy must not be as clumsy as I am, because he didn’t know about the trick to choose a delicate, light colored ice cream (White Chocolate Truffle is my favorite); instead, he ordered the Blackberry Swirl.
Needless to say, I was pretty darn impressed. Gutsy move on his part. “He must be quite the dexterous dude,” I thought to myself. I was wrong.
Halfway through our date the sun was beating down on us, so we moved under the shade. Our ice cream had already begun to melt viciously, but as I said before I am kind of a pro and had ordered mine in a cup. This poor gentleman had picked the cone.
Neither of us saw what was coming next.
He bit the bottom of the cone.
Let that sink in. He bit the bottom of the cone. On a hot day. Our ice cream was already melting like nobody’s business.
Needless to say, the ice cream exploded all over the front of his pants. I tried so hard to keep a good poker face, but literally could not contain myself. I burst out laughing, and he quickly followed.
Honestly, there was no fixing the shorts while we were there. He blotted some of the cream off, but it seemed like the blackberry stains only spread more as we tried to get them out.
This date had a happy ending, as we decided to be friends afterwards, and he even texted me later that Mr. Clean had done the trick in fixing his soiled shorts. He still has a great relationship with ice cream, and would order the blackberry again in an instant.
Today’s lesson: I normally encourage people to be themselves on a date, but when it comes to what food you choose to order, do not be yourself! Dear God, do not be yourself. Choose something foolproof like white ice cream for dessert or a plain loaf of bread for dinner. The less room for error, the better.
What is the worst faux pas you have had with food on a date? Can anyone else relate to my struggle of still being a messy eater in your twenties?
4 thoughts on “We All Scream For Ice Cream”
“Messy eater in her twenties?”
Yeah my bf calls me “the clumsiest.” Not my favorite nickname.
Great post though. So funny!!
Haha you and I would be two peas in a pod! We would probably also get kicked out of a restaurant together for being too messy…
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Hahahaha In my head, I always picture myself coming of as endearing, which is how I rationalize my slobbiness.
The right guys find it endearing… Or so I like to think 😉
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