My Date With Donnie

It was the summer of 1987 or 1988 because I remember that I was not old enough to drink, and I got carded at dinner. Anyhoo, it all started off innocently enough.

I was working at Dillard's in the Men's Department, the stores A/C had gone out and it was hotter than the other side of hell, and the the day was dragging. Things began to look up when a very good looking guy came into the department, and to the scorn and dirty looks/remarks of my colleague Raymond, "very good looking guy" who looked a lot like a younger and thinner Vince Vaughn with blue eyes, came right up to little ole me, and asked for my help in finding some cool shirts. Helping customers find shirts was part of my job, so I was too happy to do so. After two hours of helping "very good looking guy" find seven paisley printed shirts, all luscious 6' 2" him, he who had just enough muscle to make a girl and Raymond take notice, and he with his twinkling blue eyes which were set off by a mop of curly dark hair which was cut just short enough to show off his perfect jaw-line, looked at me and said, "My name is Donnie, go out with me; let me buy you a nice dinner." And Donnie asked me out within earshot of Raymond who had been buzzing around us and who was snorting, and eye rolling me to death; FUNNY!

I don't know why, but something at the very moment Donnie asked me out, made me feel an uh-oh feeling in my stomach, a warning bell went off in my head; a voice screamed, NO, do not go out with him. Warning bell be damned....Donnie was F.I.N.E. and he wanted to take me out, and the topper was it was galling Raymond; BONUS! I said yes, and Donnie and I exchanged numbers and agreed to meet for dinner the following Saturday night.


It's date night, and I am looking good dressed to the nines in my shiny rayon outfit and ankle length cowgirl boots; my hair is BIG and BUFF; Arnold would have been jealous if my hair were muscles; it looked that good. (Remember the year is 87/88 and this was when Arnold had big hard steroid induced muscles. That's kind of how my hair was; really big as if I had injected it with steroids kind of big.) At the appointed time, I met Donnie at Macyao Vegas, a long time local favorite Mexican restaurant. Donnie looked better than he did the day he bought seven paisley printed shirts; his eyes were sooo blue and he was wearing one of the paisley shirts with a pair of Levi Button Up 501's that showed off his a$$, and with a pair of cowboy boots, DAMN! And he smelled good too....he was wearing Men's Halston; now I was feeling hotter than the other side of hell; and I was thinking that I wanted more than dinner.


Donnie was the perfect gentleman, he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, handed me a flower and had made previous arrangements with the hostess for a nice off to the side and in the back booth. Donnie commented on how nice I looked and he said he really liked my hair...I was digging it...Donnie looked good, and he was with me, and he was into me, and he let everyone around know it. Dinner and conversation was lovely as we sat hand in hand at a candle lit table, with the lights dim, and sexy George Michael music in the background; Let's Talk About Sex. The whole time I am thinking "jackpot" I did good....he is F.I.N.E. and he can put two words together. Whew-wee I was glad at that moment that I had ignored the warning bells. Then, as luck would have it, Donnie told me part of his life story and he started with the summer of 1981 when he was 21 years old; just old enough to get into bars legally.

As I enjoyed my Virgin Margaretta, and an Extra Spicy Steak Burrito with guacamole, Donnie told me about the night he got into a bar fight with some guy, and the guy died due to injuries from the fight. Yea, the guy died so what was it a bar fight or was it manslaughter? My guess is it was closer to manslaughter because Donnie spent five years in prison for what he described as a bar fight. While in prison, Donnie got himself into a "white-gang", and then got himself hooked on heroin. After he got himself "clean" and then after he "participated" in good-behavior Donnie got himself paroled; six months before our date. He was living with his mother who he said he hated and to top it off, Donnie thought his mother was a drunk and a whore.


I began to sweat bullets and I was cussing myself for not listening to the warning bells. What the eff was I gonna do; I had to get the hell out of there. I looked around and then I saw it, a way out; the flashing neon sign of the women's restroom. I calmly looked at Donnie across from the ever so romantic candle lit table and said, "I need to use the restroom." I gathered my purse and off I went. Once in the restroom I had to plan a final escape....I looked out the restroom door and I viewed the back of Donnie's mop-topped curly head, and then to the right of me and only about 200 feet was the kitchen door. I knew the kitchen had an exit due to fire codes, right? I bee lined it through the kitchen, not listening/hearing to the"What the fuck, you can't be in here, get the hell outta here, you crazy bitch." And so I did; I got the hell out of there.


Whew, once in my Ford Escort, I drove like a maniac. I four wheeled it over a couple of road medians and then flipped a bitch in the middle of the street in order to get away. I don't know what disturbed me more, the fight, the time spent in prison, the gang, the heroin, or the fact that he hated his mother and he thought that she was a whore...it was all bad and it scared the hell out of me, and from that night on I have always listened to warning bells.


The next day Raymond and I worked the same shift, and I was scheduled in the Men's Department. Poor Raymond, he could not help himself, he had to know, so he asked me how my date with Donnie went....I don't know what came over me, perhaps I was a bit evil...I looked Raymond in the face and I said with all sincerity, "We had hours of delicious sex, it was really good, and he is really big like my hair kind of big, and I'm going over to his apartment after work." Raymond just looked at me and said; "You bitch...I could have had him!" I just laughed as I wobbled away. Raymond didn't talk to me for days, but we did eventually kiss and make up.


I never did hear from Donnie again, but a few years after our date he was in the news for being in a gang fight, and when he was arrested the cops found a little bag of heroin in his pant pocket.


What is flipping a bitch? When driving, you flip a bitch when you make an illegal u-turn in the middle of the street; it' called a flipping a hairy bitch when you do this when there is on-coming traffic. Have you flipped a bitch lately? Tell me about it.