Sounds Like Someone Dodged A Bullet

I’m sitting in a nice cafe at a small table close to the window. I’m sipping a drink when a woman lumps herself down at my table opposite me.

Woman: “Before we start, what you need to know about me is that I’m a Virgo, and I don’t care if you don’t ‘believe’ in astrology, because it’s important to me. Okay? And I won’t change for anyone. I’m me, and I won’t lose weight. I won’t stop shopping. I won’t go on one of your little runs, okay?”

Before I can answer, the waiter interrupts with my food.

Woman: “What the h***?! You ordered without me. I was, what—” *looks at her watch* “—fifteen minutes late? I said I don’t like being held to a schedule.” 

Me: “Lady, I don’t know you.”

Woman: “Oh, don’t like what you see? Too fat for you now? Well, I’m sorry we can’t all be super skinny models.”

Me: “I don’t know you. I don’t know why you sat down. I was trying to eat alone. I’m guessing your date didn’t want to wait for you.”

She erupts and starts to wail on about how men are terrible, for some reason still aimed fully at me. She ends up taking food off my plate and throwing it to the floor. She stomps out, leaving me utterly bemused.

Waiter: “Are you okay, sir?”

Me: “Yes, I think so. Can I have my meals replaced?”

Waiter: “Of course, free of charge. I am so sorry you had to go through that.”

As I wait, a guy across the room gives me a half-smile with a sort of apologetic shrug. I mime asking if it was his date and he nods. He eventually comes over, apologises, and explains that they met online and there wouldn’t be a second date.

The funny thing was that, apart from the same hair colour, we looked nothing alike.