I had my first polygamy date last weekend. I know what you’re thinking… I live in Utah why have I waited so long?
It was sort of forced on me, just like that entire box of vegan fake Oreo cookies I had for lunch.
Summer and I were minding our own business at the gym Saturday afternoon when her trainer boyfriend came over to say hello. I suspect his hello isn’t so much a greeting as it is a form check. I think that’s what it’s called when you’re lifting weights. I don’t speak trainer. I speak profanity.
The two lovebirds started planning their Saturday night date and before I knew it, I was part of the plan.
“Summer, polygamy is sooooo not my thing.”
“The only time I see you is at the gym and Trainer Boyfriend never gets to see you.”
“Well I can see how that’s sort of problematic. I’d miss me too.”
“Sarah, you guys can talk about the country and stuff.”
The girl knows how to manipulate me. I love country talking with fellow country kids.
Saturday night came and went. We had a lovely threesome, err, night out. It was just like how I imagine polygamy to be.. we drank lots of wine, watched a movie about a washed up country singer–ahem.. my column– and I didn’t even have to drive. It was a dream come true.
I could really get into polygamy. Who doesn’t want a husband AND a wife. Best of both worlds, right?
My excitement didn’t last long.
Monday when I met Summer at the gym for our arm workout, she explained the new leg routine Trainer Boyfriend had planned for us later. Just hearing about the workout made me want to punch wet kittens. Trainer Boyfriend is a jerk. I’m never going to polygamy date him again–no matter how hot his girlfriend is.