Clearly the date has gone well. We've been flirting back and forth all night and now we're finally at the door to her apartment for a Holiday nightcap. The room was dark as she casually reached over to flip the light switch and..
SWEET BABY JESUS IN A MANGER! IT'S LIKE A NUCLEAR CHRISTMAS-BOMB WENT OFF IN HERE!
I don't know what I'm more scared of: the Christmas tree that is roughly the size of a Manhattan studio apartment, the life-size singing Rudolph inflatable, or the fact that literally every square inch of the halls are decked out with Christmas lights.
Now it all starts to come together: her insistence on the peppermint mocha latte at Starbucks, driving the long way to dinner to look at the holiday lights, quickly changing the radio to the Christmas station when we got in her car. She's a Christmas fanatic! Santa himself doesn't give this much of a fuck about Christmas.
There's something inherently creepy about an adult who's way too into Christmas. I'm all about getting festive for the holidays, but she's taking it to a whole new unhinged level. It's like some part of her got trapped as a mental six-year-old and she's not able to let go.
I don't mean to be a Scrooge on this one, but I think Christmas should be enjoyed, like all things, in moderation. Leave the craziness and the mayhem for the kids. Anyone who disagrees can take it up with me in person. I'll be at Target at 11:00pm on Christmas Eve buying iTunes gift cards like I do every year.