they take the dorky guy or girl, fix the hair and change the clothes, and the ugly duckling becomes the swan. I’d been so convinced I’d never get a date that I never tried to look nice for a girl, so I didn’t know that I could. The hair was good. My skin wasn’t perfect, but it was getting better; the pustules had receded into regular pimples. I looked…not bad.
I went home, and my mom squealed when I walked in the door.
“Ooooooh! They turned my baby boy into a pretty little girl! I’ve got a little girl! You’re so pretty!”
“Mom! C’mon. Stop it.”
“Is this the way you’re telling me that you’re gay?”
“What? No. Why would you say that?”
“You know it’s okay if you are.”
“No, Mom. I’m not gay.”
Everyone in my family loved it. They all thought it looked great. My mom did tease the shit out of me, though.
“It’s very well done,” she said, “but it is way too pretty. You do look like a girl.”
—
The big night finally came. Tom came over to help me get ready. The hair, the clothes, everything came together perfectly. Once I was set, we went to Abel to get the keys to the BMW, and that was the moment the whole night started to go wrong.
It was a Saturday night, end of the week, which meant Abel was drinking with his workers. I walked out to his garage, and as soon as I saw his eyes I knew: He was wasted. Fuck. When Abel was drunk he was a completely different person.
“Ah, you look nice!” he said with a big smile, looking me over. “Where are you going?”
“Where am I—Abie, I’m going to the dance.”
“Okay. Have fun.”
“Um…can I get the keys?”
“The keys to what?”
“To the car.”
“What car?”
“The BMW. You promised I could drive the BMW to the dance.”
“First go buy me some beers,” he said.
He gave me his car keys; Tom and I drove to the liquor store. I bought Abel a few cases of beer, drove back, and unloaded it for him.
“Okay,” I said, “can I take the BMW now?”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean ‘no.’ I need my car tonight.”
“But you promised. You said I could take it.”
“Yeah, but I need the car.”
I was crushed. I sat there with Tom and begged him for close to half an hour.
“Please.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Nope.”
Finally we realized it wasn’t going to happen. We took the shitty Mazda and drove to Babiki’s house. I was an hour late picking her up. She was completely pissed off. Tom had to go in and convince her to come out, and eventually she did.
She was even more gorgeous than before, in an amazing red dress, but she was clearly not in a great mood. Inside I was quietly starting to panic, but I smiled and kept trying my gentlemanly best to be a good date, holding the door for her, telling her how beautiful she was. Tom and the sister gave us a send-off and we headed out.
Then I got lost. The dance was being held at some venue in a part of town I wasn’t familiar with, and at some point I got completely turned around and had no idea where I was. I drove around for an hour in the dark, going left, going right, doubling back. I was on my cellphone the whole time, desperately calling people, trying to figure out where I was, trying to get directions. Babiki sat next to me in stony silence the whole time, clearly not feeling me or this night at all. I was crashing hard. I was late. I didn’t know where I was going. I was the worst date she’d ever had in her life.
I finally figured out where I was and we made it to the dance, nearly two hours late. I parked, jumped out, and ran around to get her door. When I opened it, she just sat there.
“Are you ready?” I said. “Let’s go in.”
“No.”
“No? What…what do you mean, ‘no’?”
“No.”
“Okay…but why?”
“No.”
“But we need to go inside. The dance is inside.”
“No.”
I stood there for another twenty minutes, trying to convince her to come inside, but she kept saying “no.” She wouldn’t get out of the car.
Finally, I said, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
I ran inside and found Bongani.
“Where have you been?” he said.
“I’m here! But my date’s in the car and she won’t come in.”
“What do you mean she won’t come in?”
“I don’t know what’s going on. Please help me.”
We went back out to the parking lot. I