Bad Date

I sat at a table, impressively set with flowers and a candle, uncomfortably pulling at my tight dress. My feet hurt from the high heels I wore; I knew they would give me blisters but wore them anyway. I wanted to make a good first impression after all.

The friend who set up the blind date could not stop gushing over the majesty of who she set me up with. I was told the man I would meet was good, worthwhile, kind, and understanding. Everything I said I wanted. I would be presented with a man, a real man. Finally. Lord only knew what I would give it if were true.

“Your table sir,” a deep voice said over my shoulder, and the next moment a god entered my vision. Or at least a cousin of a god. Dressed like a romance novel character I ogled as his jaw line, thinking there was no possibility he was intended for me that evening.

But there he was, sitting down across from me. The waiter hovered and he ordered a drink politely. He then turned to me with a perfect smile and introduced himself. “Hello, my name is Mark,”

“Ellan,” I held out my hand, a bit breathless.

“Ah,” he eyed it, his whole countenance changing suddenly. “I don’t like that.”

“I’m sorry?” My hand went limp.

“Holding your hand across the table like that. It’s not very polite.”

“I—uh,” slowly I withdrew my hand under the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know offering your hand to someone was rude…”

“Depends on how you do it.” He smiled again. “So, Miss Ellan, tell me about yourself. Where do you work?”

I dismissed the odd beginning, answering, “I work for a marketing company in the city. I actually just started so I’m still getting the hang of things.”

He made a face. “I like women who are intelligent. Do you think you’ve made an impression?”

“Well not yet, it’s only been a few weeks,”

“What are your views on Scandinavian furniture?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are your views on Scandinavian furniture? Do you think the style fits with the contemporary city or does it more suit the modern country?”

“I don’t—”

“How do you decorate your home?”

“Regularly?” I faltered. “I suppose I don’t really have a specific taste at the moment.”

“I see.” Mark looked across the table long and hard. Just as his drink arrived he asked for the check. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see this going anywhere.” He smiled again, just as charming as before.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I feel we don’t have the same interests.”

“Are you serious?” I scoffed. “That’s it? I get five minutes of your time and then you decide this isn’t going anywhere? Do you realize that I bought a whole new outfit for this date?”

“That’s new?” He looked me up and down.

“I dieted for a week in preparation of this night. I even got a pedicure!”

“Miss Ellan, please lower your voice. Don’t be so upset. I realize your friend probably raised your hopes up. Don’t worry, I’m sure you will meet a perfectly suitable man for you some day.”

My mouth dropped open while he finished his drink and stood. “I had to take a taxi across town to get here…” I mumbled under my breath.

“I’m certain you will be able to find another to take you home.” Mark handed a bill to the waiter and, with one final smile, made his dash.

“Miss?” The waiter questioned, hesitantly looking down at me.

I unfolded my napkin and laid it across my lap. “I would like to see your wine and dessert menus please.”  

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