The Night I Mistook A Mannequin For My Date

So there I was, Anonymous, standing outside The Hollow Den after my shift, waiting for this guy I’d been texting with. He said he’d be wearing a leather jacket and standing by the neon sign. I’m scanning the street, and I swear I see him - tall, dark hair, leather jacket, just standing there like a statue. I start walking towards him, getting all nervous and shit, when suddenly he doesn’t move. Like, at all. I get closer and realize it’s a fucking mannequin from the store next door! I wanted to die right there on the spot.

You know what’s even more embarrassing? Chantal saw the whole thing from across the street. She was laughing so hard she had to hold onto a lamp post. I tried to play it cool, like I knew it was a mannequin the whole time, but she wasn’t buying it. She kept teasing me about it all night, saying I’m so desperate for attention that I’m hitting on furniture now. Gretchen overheard and just shook her head, muttering something about how I need to be more careful with who I trust. Whatever, Gretchen. Like you’ve never made a fool of yourself over a guy.

The worst part is, the actual guy never showed up. I waited for another hour, checking my phone every five minutes, but nothing. Just a bunch of excuses about traffic and work emergencies. Typical. At least the mannequin didn’t ghost me, right? Anonymous, let me tell you something - dating in Hollowpoint Bay is like trying to find a needle in a haystack of assholes. Sometimes I think I’d be better off just dancing alone in my apartment, where the only judgment I face is from my own reflection. But then again, where’s the fun in that?