lobsters and criminal records

Ring, ring. Ring, ri--

“Hello?”

“We need to talk.”

“Lor?”

“No, your mother. YES IT’S LOR.”

“Jeepers. You’re making me wish it was my mother.”

“Listen to me. I’m in a bit of a bind, and I need your help.”

“Lorelai Gibbons, what did you do?”

“Nothing!

...

Fine. Something.”

“Lor...”

“No, Vicky, I didn’t kill anyone. But I am currently hiding in the men’s restroom from my... um, my date.”

“You...huh?”

“I’m hiding from my date. Just let me explain. So, I’m on a blind date at that fancy seafood restaurant near the pier. You know which one I’m talking about? God, they have the best lobster. And the rolls. Straight out of warm, buttery heaven...”

“Lor?”

“Yes?”

“The blind date?”

“Yes, right! So, I met the guy, Luis, here at the restaurant, we sat down to eat, he asked all the cliché questions, I gave all the cliché answers... blah, blah, blah. But then. Luis asked me if I had ever been arrested. It was a strange jump going from first pets to criminal records. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, there was that time I spent the night in the county jail for protesting the murder of the neighborhood sycamore tree. The poor thing. But, really. Who does this guy think he is, right?”

“I mean... I wouldn’t want to jump into a relationship with a fugitive or anything.”

“VICKY. It was a blind date, not a wedding ceremony.”

“Fine, fine. Continue.”

“Well, before I could even defend myself, Luis told me he had ‘come across’ an article about my ‘arrest,’ if it can even be called that. He said he is one of the managers at the evil company that was in charge of removing the precious sycamore tree, and that he wanted me to write out a formal apology for the time and resources wasted due to my ‘reckless behavior.’ At this point in the conversation, I had turned about as red as the lobster on my plate. I asked him if he would excuse me, and I half ran to the bathroom where I am currently hiding out.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a fun evening.”

“Just a blast. Well? What should I do?”

“What do you mean? You can’t hide out in the bathroom until the restaurant closes!”

“Interesting idea... there are free mints in here...”

″No. Lorelai, go back out there and just say, ‘I don’t feel well. I think I need to go home,’ and call it a night.”

“I can’t. He just makes me so furious, I have to do something. Ooh! He ordered a coffee. Maybe I could secretly exchange the sugar for salt. No... too predictable.”

“So this is why you called me?”

“Well, actually, I was wondering... did I leave my purple purse at your apartment yesterday? It would have matched my shoes so well tonight.”

“What am I gonna do with you, Lorelai Gibbons?”

p.s. You know you want to join the challenge (;

p.p.s. I accidentally forgot to attach this to the challenge the first time, so here we go again. Republished and ready.