Chicken Soup for the Soul

I seem to have a "1, 2 , 3 date" style of dating: first date you get to know them; 2nd date you have fun, third date can be the romance one (the make or break it one).

Well, Michael and I had had two terrific dates. We were scheduled for that eventful third when he called and had to cancel. He was terribly congested and had the flu and to top it all off, it was snowing. That night we talked all night online instead of our date. He said he needed Matzo Ball Soup for his cold and I said, "No, you need my Irish penicillin-homemade chicken noodle soup." That's what my family calls it.

The next morning I got the bright idea to make him some home made soup and surprise him, so I didn't call him and tell him I was coming over. I placed the hot soup in a large glass Pyrex bowl and taped the glass lid down. I then put the hot bowl in a paper shopping bag and drove the 30 minutes to his house.

I arrived, and with the shopping bag of soup, proceeded up front concrete steps to his door. When all of the sudden I slipped on ice and grabbed for the railing, dropped the bag of hot soup into the hard, cold stairs. Chicken soup and glass flew everywhere! What a mess!

I stood there thinking that I could just leave quietly and no one would know I was there. But, no, of course I couldn't do that. He and I had talked about the soup. He would know.

So I checked my car -- not a bag or paper towel for cleanup to be had. I had to ring his bell. He answered the door with bare feet in loafers, boxer shorts and tee shirt, and a puzzled look on his face. "I brought you some soup" I said, showing him the dripping torn bag, " but it's all over your front stairs." Yes, the look I got said "are you a crazy person"? I asked for a broom and garbage bag to clean the mess up. His broom was in his car so he gave me his keys.

I got the broom and began pushing the mess into the bag. And what a colorful mess it was yellow noodles, carrots, celery, chicken and bright blue glass. Suddenly I spotted two loafers on the stairs. My eyes panned up hairy legs, shorts and shirt to a very displeased man with crossed arms and a frown. Well, I got so flustered, I began to move faster and a piece of the glass went into my finger cutting an artery. I watched in horror as red blood started spurting -- all over the soupy stairs, his legs, the broom ... everywhere!!

He took me in, stopped the bleeding and went out and finished cleaning up the mess. I was so embarrassed that when he came inside and was silent, I said "well, I have to go now. Can't stay. Was only dropping off the soup to you." And with that I flew out the door to home.

On the way home, I was chiding myself about what a stupid idea the soup had been, I knew I wouldn't hear from him again.

As I walked in my door the phone rang and it was Michael. "Honey," he said , "don't take off your coat. get back in the car and come right back over."

I was overjoyed! He must have realized what a thoughtful gesture the soup was intended to be!

I got to his door, a smile on my face and rang his bell. He answered and said" Give me my car keys. I need them for work" ( I had pocketed them by mistake when I got the broom). I handed them to him and he closed the door in my face.

Needless to say it was our last date!
I had forgotten about this and recently brought chicken soup to another man who was sick. And I was smart enough to use a pot instead of a glass dish. But the curse of the chicken soup continued as we aren't dating anymore either and he never gave me my pot back.

From now on, the men in my life can be dying and there'll be no chicken soup from me!