So when they served the desserts, my eyes got finally stuck on her nose ring. Like a tie in an elevator door.
– Stop staring at me – she said.
– I can’t.
– I get it, you don’t like the ring.
– Oh no, I do, I really do – but it sounded false: how could I add I have actually a pretty huge nose fetish, you can’t imagine what I’d do to your ring right now, right here on this table… You don’t bring up stuff like that at a first date, amirite?
And yet, I couldn’t shift my eyes.
– You’re creeping me out – she said.
– Sorry about that.
– What does it mean you can’t look away? What kind of twisted excuse is this?
An ambulance had to take us to the hospital. After a long wait, an optometrist with a huge rack finally managed to disentangle my eyes from the girl's nose.
I haven't seen the girl ever since. Nor her ring. I am dating the optometrist right now: her nose is so pathetically naked I run no risk.
Picture by Daisy Romwall. Thanks to 
