Moochy McMoocherson

It was the early 2000’s. Lynn met a cute, age appropriate guy in the wine country, Yountville, while dancing at a bar with her friends. Eric said he was also from the Bay Area, and he asked her out. She said yes.
Lynn had told the neighbors about her new guy, so they were in their front yards on Saturday night so they could check him out. Eric picked up Lynn in his BMW. When Lynn sat down, the car seat gave way, and she found herself practically lying down as his car pulled off the court.
Lynn could barely keep her head at window height as she waved to her neighbors.
“What’s wrong with the seat?” she asked Eric.
“Oh, it’s broken,” he said.
Despite her bad ride through Lafayette in her reclining seat , Lynn had a nice time at the restaurant, although she got stuck with the tab. She agreed to a second date. But she insisted on driving Eric in her white SUV.
On the second date, Lynn found herself picking up the tab again. She was starting to realize that this tall cute guy who danced so well might not have much money.
Then it dawned on her that Eric might actually live in his BMW.
“How did you break your seat?’ she asked him on the third date.
“Oh, I sleep there sometimes,” he said.
Ah ha! She had guessed correctly.
On the fourth date, Lynn told Eric that she couldn’t keep seeing him.
“I can’t keep paying for everything,” Lynn said.
“I understand,” Eric said.
After she paid for their meal, she drove him back to her place and let him off at the BMW.
“We had fun,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, glad to be rid of Moochy McMoocherson.

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