Got Mole?

I have two moles over my upper lip, and I’ve always hated them. As a kid, I was even convinced that I would keep growing more and more of them until I was left with a mole mustache. I had recurring nightmares about it. While the dreams have subsided, my self consciousness about my “beauty marks” has not. That’s why when Sam brought them up about ten minutes into our first date, I was not pleased.

“Whoa,” he said. “Do you have two freckles over your lip?”

“Yes.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool!”

Anxious to talk about something else, I said, “Thanks.”

“Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like that. That’s really awesome.”

Ok, I know how to take a compliment and everything, but he needed to drop it. And even if I didn’t despise my moles, they could definitely not be qualified as awesome. They’re pretty much just large freckles.

“I’m actually a little self conscious about them, so could we talk about something else?” I said.

“What? They’re the best! Two moles right next to each other! Why would you be self conscious?”

I told him about the mole mustache. Then, thank God, we moved on, discussing my job at a magazine. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I immediately checked the mirror to see if the moles were more obvious than usual. My phone buzzed from my purse. It was Sam, texting me from the table. Normal, right? “Is this you?” said his text, above a screen shot of my magazine’s website. There was a photo on the homepage of a woman exercising. He was openly stalking me while we were still on our date. Not willing to text him back from the bathroom, I put my phone back in my purse, and regretted the fact that I couldn’t sneak out of the bar without him seeing me.

When I got back to the table, he asked, “Did you get my text?”

“Yeah, did you just Google my company?” I didn’t really want to know.

“No, I texted my friend saying where you worked, and he Googled your company,” he said, as if that made it OK. “So is that a photo of you?”

“No,” I said. “That’s a fitness model.”

“Oh, it looks like you. But I wasn’t sure because you can’t tell if she has your moles or not.”

Seriously?

“Also,” he continued. “I texted my friend about your moles, and he says it sounds really hot. He says you shouldn’t be self conscious.” Oh good, now everyone’s involved in the mole conversation.

“Can we please not talk about the moles anymore?” I said, now pretty peeved.

He laughed, and continued talking about the moles. I felt like I was on that MTV show “Boiling Points,” where they just keep pissing you off to see how long it takes you to lose your cool. Actually, by the end of it, when I still hadn’t punched him in the face, I was a little upset there was no $100 prize. My reward for surviving a date with Sam was a few free drinks and reinstated nightmares about a mole mustache. Awesome.

—Raz, 25, NYC