Running Out on a Date Mid-Makeout Session (aka: Smooth Man Legs Freaking Me Out)

It's official: Smooth legs on a man are a deal breaker for me.

This weekend, I met up with the aptly named SmoothLegs. We had a great date. We went to a fancy-pants restaurant where we enjoyed great food, great wine, and even great(er?) conversation.

I even let him take me back to his place, which I must admit was pretty fancy, too.

Okay, so he has smooth legs. Big whoop. He has A LOT else going for him, I thought.

I thought wrong. Once we were smooching on his bed (which was the biggest, fluffiest, most romp-worthy thing ever!) and I felt my legs tangled up in his equally smooth legs, I had a minor (aka major) freak-out.

I did the incredibly cliché thing and excused myself to go freshen up and then texted my bestie from the bathroom to call me in two minutes with an emergency.

"What should the emergency be?” she asked. “It has to be something believable."

"I don't care what it is! And I don’t care if it’s believable!" I frantically texted back. (Imagine approximately six autocorrect errors in my message.)

I went back into the bedroom for what I hoped would only be two more minutes of smooth-leg torture. Luckily, right on cue, my phone began ringing obnoxiously loudly (I had turned the ring volume to the max while I was in the bathroom).

Long story short, my bestie rang in with a story about her just being hit by a cab. And just let me say, my performance on the other line was Oscar-worthy.

I'll be giving my acceptance speech on a shampoo bottle during my showers all week.

Thanks, SmoothLegs. This one's for you.

xo, Click-n-Tell

photo: iStockPhoto/Thinkstock

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