King

Okay, so, my bad for assuming the guy I was going on a date with wasn’t married. And my bad for taking him to a friend’s house for dinner, only to find out my friend is also friends with his wife. Because, in fact, he is married. And she happens to be at my friend’s house because her husband was busy working.

Confused? So am I.

Unsurprisingly, my date’s wife is super angry about finding out that her husband is a cheating asshole.

Girl, I get it.

Then, to make matters more convoluted, there is the man sitting next to my date’s wife. A man named King, who is apparently her brother, and who lives up to his name.

And since my “date” is a two-timing prick, I’m not going to feel bad about drooling over King, especially since I’ll never see him again. Or at least I don’t plan to.

I plan to take an Uber to the cheater’s apartment to get my car keys. I plan for it to be quick.

And if I had to list a thousand possible outcomes… witnessing my date’s murder, being kidnapped by his killer, and then being forced to marry the super attractive, but clearly deranged crime lord, would not have been on my Bingo card.

But alas, here I am.