Dear Mr Blind Date, Are You Mr Right? (Completed)

Annoyance

"Chloe, darling, how did the blind date go? You never did call me back..."

Yes, Mum. Why would I blab everything to you? You will just tell the entire world.

"Chloe, will you believe it? Mrs Jarkison's daughter got married to a millionaire. She sent you the invitations. Please RSVP as soon as possible..."

Mrs Jarkison's daughter is Miss-Snooty-Pants. She had plastic surgery to enhance her boobs and butts. Isn't it obvious why I don't want to turn up for her big day?

"Chloe Manson. Are you deliberating avoiding my calls? I gave birth to you and endured 10 hours of torture and this is how you treat you beloved mother?"

Please, Mum. You had a C-section and anaesthesia. It's not as if you literally pushed me out of your ass. I know that for a fact.

"Chloe Manson. If you do not pick up my calls any time soon, I'm going to send a mass email to all your colleagues telling them you haven't had an orgasm since you were 24 years old."

That did it.

"ARGH!" I groan and throw myself onto my bed. I HATE HER.

I just got back from my dinner with Ed. It was....nice. No details. No excitement. Really professional.

Okay, fine. We did kiss, once. Just once. I told myself it was like a candy treat. But I didn't anticipate it to be so......delicious. I've had plenty of kissing experience. Don't judge me. Though I've only had sex 5 times, I know what a good or bad kisser is and Ed definitely belongs to the former category. It was tender, soft, passionate yet not forceful. Basically, it left me hanging for more.

After I pulled away, I hastily bade goodbye before rushing up to my flat. If I had lingered just one moment longer, I would have started licking him desperately. Maybe not. That's quite gross but I might have done something more disastrous.

And now, I'm left contemplating about him and the Queen of Terror has to disturb my peace and quiet even though she lives a district away from me. It's not as if she sees me once a year. She sees me practically EVERY WEEK to have a "mother-daughter" bonding session. She sees it as an opportunity to brainwash me into marrying earlier while I interpret it as entering the gates of hell.

I mean seriously. Can I've some privacy and respect? I moved out of her house the minute I turned eighteen and legal because I couldn't stand her constant intrusion. Maybe I should hire a hunky bouncer to keep her out. You know, like the ones in the movies who act all macho and tough?

Knock. Bang. Knock.

"Chloe, are you there? Open up!"

Shit. Please...no.... I get up, shuffle to the door and throw open it. There, standing in person, is the aforementioned Queen of Babble.

"Mum....what...what are you doing here?" I ask warily, rubbing my eyes. It's 11pm and I don't  believe that she's here only for a courtesy visit.

"You never answered my calls!" she screeches and pushes her way into the room. Hello? Some privacy here? Hello? Nobody ever listens to me.

"Mum, I just forgot to call you back. Nothing happened. The country wasn't bombed," I groan.

"I've literally been dying with trepidation. How did your blind date go?" She clasps my hands tightly and I wince. Gently extracting my hand from her iron-clamp claws, I say vaguely. "S'ok."

"Did it work out? I want details. Details!" she says urgently, her fingernails digging into my skin. I can see the red marks surfacing now.

"I don't know, ok?" I snap. "Stop pestering me. Just get your butt out of the flat so that I can sleep. I haven't had a decent night since a week." Maybe it's the stress. Maybe it's just the guilt. I just don't feel like blurting out my new fantasy crush on Ed to my mum. Don't you understand my pain?

"Chloe!" She looks mortified. "You're my only child, I need to know everything about it!" she moans.

Correction. She just wants an opportunity to tell all her friends that I, her own child and source of disappointment, has finally wed to a rich guy so that she can plan her grand wedding at the Ritz.

No offence, but I can't see myself prancing around, walking down the aisle in some tight white dress I probably would never wear ever again. Maybe I should just go, "Hey, Ed, want to go to the registry office during lunch? Heard they got a slot."

I'm sure Ed wouldn't mind. Not that, we would get married of course. Just an example.

"Look, Mum. It went fine. I just don't know how to proceed, ok?" I close my eyes and sat on a chair. Visions of Ed walking around naked in our bedroom on our wedding night danced around in my head. Ok, focus, Chloe. Your job here is to handle your delusional mum. Not become just like her.

"Oh, the first time it went fine!" She claps her hands. "Now all we've to do is select a date and do the wedding business. Chup-chup!" She whips out a wedding planner and starts writing dates.

"Mum!" My eyes pop open and I glance at her in horror. Snatching the wedding planner away, I scream, "There's no wedding, ok? I got along fine with him but he's my boss and you can never sleep with your boss!"

She looks at me as if I'm crazy but that's plain ironic, it's her with all the ridiculous fantasies.

"Why can't you sleep with your boss?"

Oh right. I knew she wouldn't get it. This is the woman who slept with her dance instructor, her health nutrionist and her tennis coach. OF COURSE SHE WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND MY DILEMMA.

"It's unethical. I've certain....values."

"Oh, don't act so high-handed." She waves. "If your theory worked, you would have gotten laid a long time ago."

Another thing, it's really embarrassing to be constantly reminded that your mum, at the age of 55 years old, has gotten laid more times than me. I mean, come on. It isn't fair. I'm supposed to be the young one but am I getting any action? No.

"Get out. I'm done with you. I'm hormonal now and I'm a woman." I narrow my eyes at her. "I'm not going to sleep with my boss just because you tell me to." Even if I want to.

"How can you throw your own mother out? The one who gave birth to you...." she begins all theatrically. Shut up. Just shut up.

I push her out of the house and slam the door. I kick it twice and sigh.

I need some drugs, really. With all these craziness, I think I'm sick.