DAY FIFTY-FOUR (date in t-minus 7 minutes)
I owe my friends. BIG TIME.
Quite literally, actually. I very specifically had to sign actual paperwork documenting that I, in fact, owe my friends and that, very specifically, what I owe them is quote-unquote BIG TIME.
So now I’ve got clean pants, and money, and reservations to what is apparently a very nice restaurant on Level 77 with a name that I initially took to be Italian for “The Palace of Galloping Curds,” except that when I said that, Kyle the evil pseudodragon slapped me right in the face and told me to never speak those words again.
Also, they gave me a haircut.
This is all thanks to General VanO’Shaughnessy, and Mr. Bliss, and Jimbo and Princess Leafy and Kyle, and Wallyworkle Tinklehammer, and even Dead-Neck McGee the stupid cleric ghost and Neil the giant-tie-wearing giant acid-spitting spider.
Apparently, Neil and I are cool again, since—again, apparently—I wrote him a really good letter of recommendation this week. So that’s sort of a weight off my shoulders. I’d actually forgotten that we were fighting, to be perfectly honest, but I suppose it’s just nice to have one less enemy in the world.
Man. I’m the luckiest goblin in the whole world, with the best friends ever. And now they’re all yelling at me to get out of the bathroom and to go on this date. Oh, by all the various deities of the goblin pantheon, I’m nervous.
DAY FIFTY-FOUR (date time)
It’s going really well, I think. Abliguritia keeps laughing at all of my jokes, and touching her hair—which is the CUTEST blue mohawk you’ve ever seen, except with these parts on the side that hang down to her shoulders that look kind of like blue-dyed girl-sideburns, but which aren’t—and playing with her dagger-pierced, flaming-skull-themed earrings—of which she has several dozen—and saying that she’s having a really good time.
She sounded slightly shocked the first time she said it, but I’m not offended. In her defense, I’m quite a bit more shocked that she’s having a good time than she is.
We’ve been drinking very good wine, which I think has helped.
Also, it has been mentioned that her dad really, REALLY wouldn’t want her to go on a date with me. Which is a good thing, because making her father angry is, I have come to understand, a very big part of Abliguritia’s dating strategy . . . and lifestyle in general. That led me to mention my idiot nephews Pp’grgth, Grg-thpp and Winslow, and how much I hate them, and how one time I stapled their dad’s head to a log back when we were kids, and I think she swooned.
The breadsticks are really good, too.
Anyway, I’m currently locked in the bathroom at the Palace of Galloping Curds, or whatever it’s called, and I’m feeling really positive about this date.
Also, seriously, this bathroom is nicer than my level of the dungeon.
DAY FIFTY-FOUR (still date night)
Abliguritia has very good taste in films. Specifically, all the movies looked stupid and terrible and so we ended up going to a roller derby exhibition instead.
I yelled a lot and threw a cup full of soda at a referee, which apparently earned me points. Then, Abliguritia had me hold her spike-covered leather jacket while she ordered more drinks, and she ended up telling me all about her sleeve tattoos. One of them is from the play.
Yeah: the one that I wrote. That’s right. She’s a huge fan.
This is going well.
DAY FIFTY-FOUR (later in the date)
We’re at a piano-jazz club. It’s awesome. They have free mints!
The two of us have been dancing, and I bumped into a hobgoblin who reads my blog, and he gave me his business card and shook my hand.
I looked super-cool.
DAY FIFTY-FOUR (now probably into the next day)
Holy crap. This is crazy.
We just broke into the Ridiculously Toxic Posie Coffee-House & Local-Art Co-Op where Abliguritia works, and she let me make my own latte using the machine, with extra caramel, and I got to try out the fancy whipped cream dispenser they have here. It can shoot whipped cream a LONG way.
She also showed me some of her charcoal sketches, which are really good. I told her so, too—and specifically mentioned the parts that I really liked—and she blushed and punched me in the arm.
Then, Abliguritia turned on the stereo, and now we’re sitting on the roof listening to a bunch of very intense bands I’ve never heard of and drinking micro-brews.
DAY FIFTY-FOUR (end of the night)
That . . . that was crazy.
Our cab driver ended up being Dan, the CR 17 ice elemental druid/monk with a master’s degree in art history that I tried to hire. He was really cool and called me “sir” . . . but most importantly, I actually have a witness that Abliguritia kissed me RIGHT ON THE CHEEK and told me to call her some time.
Best day of my entire life. WOO!
Oh, yeah. I really ought to start working on that company picnic.
According to these notes, we’re supposed to have a performance of the musical at some point tomorrow, along with everything else.
Plus, it looks like I’m going to need to find enough hot dogs to feed thirteen hundred monsters. And their families. And to get some punch made.
1 thought on “Oh, I’m Going to Get Killed Any Minute Now (Part 23)”
This really made me feel good. Thank you Clinton.