Why to Always Keep a Labeling Marker On Hand

Submitted by Bruce:

Last fall, my brother asked me if I could pick up my niece from her kiddie gym around midday.  I did, and while there I met Nora, one of the instructors.

Nora had a fantastic body, a great smile, and took a lot of time to talk to me about not only my niece's progress at the gym, but also each other.  I've been wrong in the past about mistaking super-friendliness for flirting, but I had a good feeling about her and asked her out to dinner on the spot.

We drove separately to a Japanese restaurant in the middle of town.  She showed up in a dress that accentuated each of her assets.  She flashed me that dynamite smile again, and I nearly forgot how to form a sentence.

Dinner went very well, although she seemed to be fishing for compliments a lot of the time.  I did my best to convey to her how beautiful and smart I thought she was.

After dinner, we hugged goodbye.  I promised to call her, and we headed to our respective homes.

When I made it back to my front door, there was something waiting for me: a small box with a red ribbon.  It was labeled, "From Nora."

I stood up and looked around.  Had she left it there before the date?  Or had she rushed back to my place to leave it there when I was on my way back?  Slightly more importantly, how had she known where I lived?

I went inside and opened it up.  A blank DVD.  For the first time that night, I had a bad feeling.  Something didn't seem right.  I popped in the DVD and watched...

...a video of Nora and another man, having sex on the floor of what looked like a classroom.

I turned it off.  Clearly, she wasn't the one who left it on my porch.  My guess, the guy in the video had left it, somehow finding out where I lived.  Great.  Now I had a psycho ex with whom to deal.

I thought about calling Nora, but remembered how tense she had seemed during dinner, and decided against it.  Why worry her even more?  My plan was to ignore it.  If a sex video was the worst that the guy could do, then what did I have to be worried about?

I called Nora the next day, and she sounded very happy to hear from me.  We made tentative plans for the weekend.

"Did you get the present I left on your porch?" she asked.

I forgot how to form a sentence again.  "Uh..."

"Did you like it?"

How to react?  "It was... well, it's a little unusual that you left me a video of you and another guy having sex, but... I guess I'm... flattered?"

Silence.  Then, "What did you say?  Me and another guy... oh my God."

Whoops!  Turns out, she meant to leave me a video of a solo acting performance she had done in a regional theatre troupe, and she had in fact left it there before the date.

She hurried off the phone, and out of respect, I waited a few days before calling her.

When I did, I left a message to let her know that it was nothing to worry about, that it was an accident, and that I'd be glad to return the disc to her whenever and wherever she wanted.

Never heard from her again.