So I met this guy on Halloween. I don't remember what he was dressed as, but I was in a full '70s-inspired ski suit, like something Farrah Fawcett would have worn if she was on the slopes. After a few drinks I agreed to a date with him. I don't know how to say, "No, I'm not interested." He was a very nice guy, very, very nice guy. Supersweet. I just wasn't ready for any sort of commitment. So then he called me the next morning and was like, "Can't wait to see you." We were texting, making plans for the date all day, and then I was just thinking I can't do this. But instead of saying I can't make it, I said my aunt died and that I had to fly home to Kentucky. He was very caught off guard.
A couple years later we reconnected on Facebook — I don't know why — and I agreed to meet him for a drink. And he said, you know when you said your aunt died I didn't believe you and thought you were trying to get out of the date. And I was like, "No, she did die. It was horrible." I just pray to god that nothing will happen to my real aunt thanks to my lie.