# Date Night Chapter 1

Chapter 1
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"I'm almost ready, so be here in about uh... half an hour."
"Alright, see ya then Sweet Tooth."
"Oh shut up you c-" she trails off for a bit before the call ends. Even after all this time, that nickname hasn't lost its effect; you could practically feel her blushed cheeks through the phone, a reward worth the immediate cringe that overtakes you whenever you say it. More importantly, she said she'd be ready in half an hour, so that's about an hour of shitposting before you need to leave. Having gone on plenty of dates with Fang taught you the hard way how much time she needs to get ready, and her dad made sure you'd be able to feel every uncomfortable second of it. On the bright side, you know a lot more about golf now, to the point where you can actually hold a conversation with him, should you need to distract him from bashing your head in with his club for whatever reason.
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The bus ride was short, your thoughts still on those posts you made on that Slovenian Femboy Meetup forum. It really doesn't take much to rile them up, you think to yourself, choking back a laugh and probably looking like a retard to the other passengers. Stepping out, you're greeted by the now familiar sight of Fang's street. You begin to wonder what you'll be doing this evening. She usually makes the plans, since she's lived here all her life and knows all the cool hangout spots. You can't complain though, there haven't been too many misses, and in your book any time spent with Fang is a good time. A minute or two later you're knocking on the door, on time you hope. The door is opened by Sam, Fang's mom, and she gestures you to come in.
"Oh, good evening Anon! How are you sweetie?"
"Quite alright. It's been a splendid day today after all." I put on the best suburban posh display I could muster. I don't think I could ever pull it off naturally but she doesn't seem to mind.
"Indeed, good to hear! I trust you're here for Fang? She ought to be ready any minute now.". Damn, still to early, I guess I have no choice but to..
"Ripley's in the living room if you want to chat. If you need anything I'll be in the kitchen."
"Alright, thank you." I respond trying to hide my dejection.
Oh boy, here we go. You're a train operator now, on the flimsiest rails in the world. Time to do your best to avoid a train-wreck. You nervously make your way to the living room, where you find Ripley, sitting in his armchair, absent-mindedly flipping through channels, still in his police uniform. He turns his gaze to you, then gestures towards the couch. You follow his lead and sit down, desperately trying to appear as relaxed as possible.
"Hey, Anon" he says in the same indecipherable tone he always uses. At this point you can't help but think he's using it only to fuck with you.
"Hello sir, how are you." you're sweating bullets already, and your voice almost cracked. This is terrible. You need to get out of here as fast as possible. Where's Fang? How much longer 'til she's done?
"How many times have I told you boy, you can call me Ripley" he laughs as he shifts in his seat. "I'm doing just fine, came from work about a half hour ago."
"Anything exciting?" grasping at straws to keep that dreadful silence I know all too well from creeping in.
"Nothing much, just paperwork, although I suppose that's a good thing, eh" he chuckles. "Say, you're pretty well dressed, you guys going anywhere fancy?" You're taken aback by the sudden compliment, although it's true that shirts aren't in your usual repertoire, and this IS the nicest pair of jeans you have.
"I don't know where we're going actually" you answer after composing yourself. "She usually tells me where we're supposed to be going beforehand, but this time she was very cryptic about it."
"Sounds like she's got a surprise cooking" he states, very matter-of-factly, before turning his attention back to the TV.
A few minutes pass in silence, as he goes from channel to channel, trying to find anything even half-interesting. Suddenly, his face contorts with an unreadable cocktail of emotions. Looking to see what's got him so agitated, you see a replay of yesterday's PDGA golf tournament final. "Oh." the sound of realization escapes from your mouth before you can catch it, and Ripley looks at you quizzically. " 'ave you watched the match yesterday?". You have, along with the rest of the tournament. Being informed on your girlfriend's dad's favorite sport is important for your well-being; everybody knows that. More urgently, he seems to be expecting you to comment on the outcome of the game. Your next sentence could make or break you.
"Yeah I've seen it. Cynodont Woods really fucked up those last few shots huh."
"Right? Even you could've putted some of those! And he still won. Bah!" he scoffs.
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A few more minutes pass, as Ripley comments on various plays in the match, as well as ranting about different aspects of golf in general. You struggle to catch all of it, but he seems to be enjoying himself, so the occasional nod and 'I see' is all you need to satisfy him. Soon enough you hear someone coming down the stairs, and into the living-room struts Fang. You look at her and your jaw immediately drops. All of this waiting was worth it, you think. She's wearing white shirt with a black vest on top, tucked into a mesmerizing pleated dress, which, combined with the distinctly elegant leather boots she's wearing, accentuate the curves of her legs. To top it all off she's wearing the pendant you gave her way back, which gives you a heart boner like you've never had before. You stare in disbelief, having been reminded just how lucky of a guy you really are.
"You gonna gawk all night or can we go?" Fang chuckles as she drags you up from the couch and towards the door. As you get your bearings you see the patriarch adopt a stern look as he furrows his brow.
"I trust you know the drill already."
You don't hesitate to respond. "Yessir. Home by 10pm, either she gets here safe and happy or I go home in a body bag.". You quickly stand at attention and do a soldier's salute, which prompts Fang to roll her eyes, and her dad to smile.
"Hah! Atta boy! Have fun you two!" he howls before turning back to the TV.
"Come on Sweet Tooth, let's go". A flash of annoyance and embarrassment on Fangs face signal that I've hit my target yet again. It really never gets old.
"Pftt. Shut up." she exits the house through the door you've opened like the true gentleman you are, and you follow suit.