Blind Date

"You'd want to keep me. I'd want to be kept. What a disaster that would be."

I screwed up my face in disbelief. "What? I don't want to keep anyone. If I wanted to administer to any living creature I'd get a pet. Or train as a nurse. Kill me now, I don't ever want to keep another person. What are you talking about?" I held my hand down on the table with the palm of my other hand, sure that I would slap him if I didn't keep tight control. He was smug, so smug, and far too sure of himself. It was time that someone took him down a peg or two but I didn't know if I wanted that someone to be me. Too much effort for too little return.

He shrugged and poured himself another glass of wine. He didn't offer me a refill despite the fact my glass was near empty. I glanced at the bottle as he set it back down on the table. He had left only a mouthful behind as a sign of misplaced etiquette. I looked towards the door. I could be out of here in a second, thanking my lucky stars for my escape and putting the whole sorry episode behind me.

He leaned back in his chair. I resisted the urge to tell him that the bottom button of his shirt was undone, exposing a portion of his shockingly white-skinned, plump, and hairy belly. I wondered if he knew how chubby he looked from this angle. Not that it mattered. If I was interested in him I would have embraced every inch of his plumpness. Embraced and adored. 

"I know your type. You successful women all need a man in your handbag. Boosts the ego. A little kept man to escort you to functions and events. Someone to show off to your friends." He sipped at his wine and smirked at me. "But you are pretty."

My head screamed, "Are you fucking serious?" My face smiled politely and my left hand played with my wine glass, twirling the stem round and round. Red wine is a funny thing. A leftover splash in a glass can look like pinkly diluted grape juice or a sparkling rare ruby. Or blood.

"I've made my success. Traveled the world. Did you see the new Audi parked outside the door? Did you see the number plate? PURRRR. I tried for PUSSSY but it was already taken." He smiled up at the young waitress as she came to take our plates. "Hello, love. Gorgeous neck tattoo. Does it go allllllll the way down?"

The waitress looked at me, a combination of confusion and sisterhood plastered across her face. I smiled at her, conveying a succinct "I just met him and I'm outta here as soon as I can" back. She nodded and turned to my companion, a professional smile on her face. "Lucky guess. Yes, it goes alllll the way down." She sashayed back to the kitchen, her shapely bottom telling me a far different story than the one that he had read.

He leaned forward, oblivious to the fact that I had not spoken for at least five minutes. "We want the same things. We're too similar. You're gorgeous but you're not what I'm looking for. Come back to my house. I have a spa pool and an unsurpassed view of the city." He stared down my top. "You are pretty. I like big-bosomed women."

I stood up and reached for my bag. "Well, that was fun. Isn't it funny that no-one is ever as you expect them to be? Thank you for dinner. I have already settled the bill. Good luck!" I resisted the urge to kiss his wide-open mouth. That would've been too cruel but oh-so satisfying. I pushed open the door of the restaurant and drove home, thankful for yet another reason to write an interesting story.