A Former NFL Replacement Ref Narrates My Girlfriend’s Business Date With Another Guy, As I Requested, Because I’m Spying On Her To See If She’s Cheating

OK, so right now they’re just talking. I can see your girlfriend and the guy clearly from where I’m standing; they’re just talking and looking at their menus. Are they talking, or yelling? Or moving their lips without making any sounds? I think they might be making out or playing Bingo. Now their menus are gone. The girl’s getting salmon. No, it’s salad. Steak. Baked beans and Mike and Ikes. And fruit punch in a wine glass. The guy is simply eating air with a fork. They’re not moving at all, not even to breathe, and the Sun is setting in the background. All of a sudden they’ve switched faces. It’s impossible to tell who’s who. The guy is wearing a cute skirt with a sweater, and the girl is wearing a men’s XXL snowboarding outfit.

Clarification? Wait, OK, now I know. I was mistaken. I wasn’t looking at the right people. The people I was just looking at were actually mannequins in front of a painting. But now I see your girlfriend. She and the guy have left and are going for a walk in a park, near some rocks.

I have to add that man, you have great taste in girls. Your girlfriend is really pretty. Is she the one with a shoe coming out of her ear? She has the cutest smile, and her non-smile is also cute. She has two heads. She has six arms and four torsos. If you look at her, then looked away for .2 seconds, and look back, I swear she multiplies by five. It’s like there were six people where there used to just be one. Are they all the same person? I think that yes, they are the same person.

The guy and your girl are still walking in the rocky park, and wow, those are some big rocks. That one rock is freaking enormous. It’s huge, and they’re walking right next to it. I don’t see them anymore. They’re gone, maybe inside the rock. Or she and the guy just got flattened by the rock, and they’re dead. She’s dead, and the date’s over.

The rock has started to move. It’s a bus. They’re taking a bus, and I’m on board, too. She’s not dead, although she has different colored hair now. It’s blond, sort of strawberry blond-black. Brown. Green. Rainbows. We’re all getting off the bus, I think going to a bar or a farm. The guy is walking in the street, and the girl is either walking on the sidewalk or the street. It’s really close. I’m asking some people around me if she’s walking on the sidewalk or the street, and they’re all making serious faces. Nobody knows, and nobody will ever know.

You’ve got a lot of questions, so listen, I’ve got a confession to make. I can’t see so great. My contacts have fallen out, and I’m not sure where. I have no sense of hearing either. Both my eyes are glass eyes, and I have no sense of smell. Touch — basically anything having to do with sensing the outside world — doesn’t come easily to me. One time I thought I was petting a cat; turned out I was farting into a salad. And most of my spying experience hasn’t been this intense. Mainly local stuff so far: finding people’s lost keys, trying to look through peepholes backwards. I thought my background with officiating D-III Bop-It Tournaments qualified me for this, but I guess not.

But wait, I’m sure about this. We’re all in a bar, and music’s playing. I get a drink from the bartender. But who was holding the drink first? Me or the bartender? I think I was first, and handed it to myself. The guy and the girl are dancing, pretty close. I walk nearer to get a better view. All of a sudden I’m at the microphone, in front of the band, saying to the guy, “Hey, guy, you suck. She’s better than you. Get lost.” I spill my drink on him. Everybody’s yelling mean things at me, and I don’t know why. The guy rushes up to me while wearing a cutoff sweatshirt, and I get scared. Half the bar is making angry faces, but the other half is secretly happy.

A lot’s happened tonight. I don’t know why you hired me, but just know that whatever happens, I’m doing my best.