Thursday Night:
As if waiting for a train that was surely going to wreck into the station, there i was sitting at an Italian restaurant off of Poplar. It’s called Fettuccine’s. Sounds lame and looks about as much. I’d never been. She texted and told me I wasn’t going to pick her up, that she would meet me here. She’s a minute late and i’m sure she isn’t coming. I check my watch every second hand tick. Not that the tick is audible. Just a coincidence. Happenstance. Like how i got a date with the girl who works at McCalisters. At this point she still won’t tell me her name.
I see her coming and she. looks. amazing. Her long brown locks are swaying and she has glasses on, boots, oh god but the glasses.
“Holy shit.” She smiles and blushes, something about it tells me she doesn’t blush often.
“Thank you” I say.
“For what? Coming?”
“Well, yeah. Also for being fashionably late.”
“I’m like,” She checks her watch, “two minutes late.”
“Punctual people scare me, so i’m glad.”
“You aren’t normal are you?” This is why i like her. She’s very upfront. Bold.
“I certainly hope not.”
We sit in silence as she figures out what she wants. I hope she orders what she can eat. People who order a salad and ask for a to-go box make me want to strangle living things. I don’t have a problem with vegans. I’ve met some pompous ones maybe, but that comes with pretty much any lifestyle that is out of the norm. Something I cannot deal with would be a vegan who constantly berates me about eating meat. So, this is an important moment.
“I think i’m going to have the chicken Alfredo. You really can’t go wrong with that, even at a shitty Italian restaurant like this one. ” I say.
“You picked this one.”
“Yeah.”
“So why did you pick a restaurant you knew was shitty.”
“Because i thought that if i picked a good one that we would be able to talk about how good the food is and we would lose that much more amount of real conversation. Also, it could be good, I’ve never actually been here. I just assume it’s going to be bland.”
She shakes her head.
“You think way too much about things.”
“I know it’s horrible.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Close your eyes.”
“What, why?”
“Just do it.”
I close my eyelids.
“Now think about what i look like without opening your eyes.”
“Okay… What is supposed to happen?”
“Nothing, but you aren’t worrying about over-analyzing things.”
Oh she’s good.
“You were really hot.”
“Were?”
“Yeah when i closed my eyes.”
“and i’m not now?”
“No, still hot, just not the way you were when i closed my eyes.”
She frowns and I bite my lip.
I probably shouldn’t say this next bit. Going to anyway.
“It’s okay, in my experience girls are always better in my imagination.”
“I think i want the ravioli.” She puts her menu aside and looks annoyed.
“I think you are really amazing.”
“Sure you do.”
“Do you think i would just say that?”
“I’m thinking this date is not going as I wanted it to.”
“It was two sentences that annoyed you, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“An average male speaks over six thousand words daily. Let’s say on average there are five words in every sentence that he speaks-“
“I think if the male we are talking about is you then we might up the quota on that one.”
“Probably, anyway, If on average there are five words in a sentence he speaks twelve hundred sentences daily. Three hundred sixty five days in a year, so, four hundred and thirty eight thousand sentences in a year. The two sentences that put you off of this date all together make up… hold on.” I get out my phone and bring up the calculator. I show her the end result.
0.0004566210045662101
“Wow, that’s a small percentage.” She is smiling now.
“I’m sorry, for all intents and purposes I think you are beautiful, in my mind and outside of it.”
“Jesus, I thought you said you weren’t good at dating.”
“I’m usually not.”
She went home, so did I. She said she’d call me tomorrow. I said please do. When I got home I put on a record and danced for the first time in ages.
8 months ago