I thought of you today.
You flitted through my thoughts
Faster than you fled my company,
And longer than you were there.
The few moments you were a memory
Burned me like the noonday sun.
Far above me, out of reach--
Like your love, your affection.
The clenching in my chest
Passed once you left again.
Only for the hollowness to return.
The space you leave, a reminder you were here.
My breath is returning to normal
And I'm already forgetting you again.
I smile at the world outside
And bury you inside my head.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
"Trial by Fire"
Loving you has been a
Trial by Fire.
Bullets flutter like petals
In the war-zone our love's become;
Twisted echos of the chant
"He loves me he loves me not"
In days long gone.
Our friends dropping
Like our pretenses.
As we pull trip wires
Setting off land mines
Emotions become collateral damage.
We take mortars left and right,
Exchanging words like hand grenades.
I consider your gaze
A heat seeking missile;
You think me a tank,
Unfeeling and impenetrable.
"Friendly fire" isn't just an expression,
Its this.
We need to raise a white flag,
Negotiate a truce--not surrender,
So we can both get out alive
At least until the next fight.
Trial by Fire.
Bullets flutter like petals
In the war-zone our love's become;
Twisted echos of the chant
"He loves me he loves me not"
In days long gone.
Our friends dropping
Like our pretenses.
As we pull trip wires
Setting off land mines
Emotions become collateral damage.
We take mortars left and right,
Exchanging words like hand grenades.
I consider your gaze
A heat seeking missile;
You think me a tank,
Unfeeling and impenetrable.
"Friendly fire" isn't just an expression,
Its this.
We need to raise a white flag,
Negotiate a truce--not surrender,
So we can both get out alive
At least until the next fight.
Monday, December 7, 2009
"Pull the Pin"
Our love could've been an explosion
But you couldn't pull the pin.
We could've introduced our folks,
Joined our last names
And made babies with my smile and your eyes.
But you love being alone so much
You can't pull the pin and end it.
I would've loved you hard,
Till the sky fell down,
And Liberace went straight.
You couldn't do it,
So if you'll excuse me,
I'll pull the fucking pin.
But you couldn't pull the pin.
We could've introduced our folks,
Joined our last names
And made babies with my smile and your eyes.
But you love being alone so much
You can't pull the pin and end it.
I would've loved you hard,
Till the sky fell down,
And Liberace went straight.
You couldn't do it,
So if you'll excuse me,
I'll pull the fucking pin.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Who wins?
If I could I’d
Cut you from my chest,
Rip you from my brain,
And try to salvage what was left.
I know you'd rather
Burn me at the stake,
Maim me for life,
Or smother me with a pillow.
If we had our way
There’d be nothing left of the other.
Ego versus super-ego,
Locked in eternal battle.
But wait, pipes up the id,
When you're fighting against yourself,
Who wins?
Cut you from my chest,
Rip you from my brain,
And try to salvage what was left.
I know you'd rather
Burn me at the stake,
Maim me for life,
Or smother me with a pillow.
If we had our way
There’d be nothing left of the other.
Ego versus super-ego,
Locked in eternal battle.
But wait, pipes up the id,
When you're fighting against yourself,
Who wins?
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Toxic Love CH 5 "The Upperhand"
“Hey baby,” I hear him call as he sidles into the kitchen. I’m immediately on guard, trying-to-make-amends Tommy is here. I’m wary of this because, although he is my favorite Tommy, he’s more trouble than regular Tommy. I suppose because regular Tommy is upfront about his nefarious aims; I’m-sorry-and-turning-over-a-new-leaf Tommy sneaks his double meanings into everything, so you never know what’s happened until he’s finished. It crushes me, but it steam rolls Ms. Tori because he acts just like he used to; it’s worse for her because she’s known old Tommy so much longer than I had. She always starts to believe he’s changed just in time for him to revert and show her again just how far he’s gone.
He massages my shoulder as he kisses below my left ear. I feel myself start to melt into our old gesture before I pull myself away. He doesn’t notice and makes for Ms. Tori. “Hey ma, smells great,” he starts as he hugs her from behind, “what’re we having?”
I see Ms. Tori’s head turn a little towards him before snapping back to the stove, she says stiffly, “dinner. Set the table.” I want to cheer and hug her; she’s standing her ground, the dear, she’s trying to not fall for his charms. I straighten up in my chair; if she can do it, I certainly can. I turn back to chopping lettuce for the salad while Tommy starts to set the table.
I watch him with my peripheral vision as he sets the table. He keeps glancing between Ms. Tori, the table and me; gauging our defenses to find his way under our skin. He pauses for a moment then heads across the kitchen to the pantry. Once he leaves the kitchen, Ms. Tori and I look at each other and mouth frantic questions at each other. Before we can pause and understand each other, we hear him walking back into the kitchen; we both turn back to our tasks but eye the doorway for the very moment he walks back in. I see him first and I notice he’s limping. My first thought is that he’s faking; I begin to turn away when I see Ms. Tori look toward him. I try to catch her eye to signal to look away, but when I see her stiffen I look back to Tommy. I look just in time to see him drop his sweats back down a swollen ankle. “Tommy, what on earth? What—“ Ms. Tori starts, walking over to him.
He sits sheepishly, “I’m not sure really, but it really hurts.” Ms. Tori lifts his leg onto the chair next to him and starts feeling his leg. She doesn’t look up when she asks me to get some ice; her face intent and focused. I’m filling a dish towel with ice when it hits me—he’s flaunting it as an in. I knot the towel angrily and drop it into Tommy’s lap before going back to my salad bowl. He winces and looks at me, confusion clearly on his face. You’re not getting in that easy I think to myself, I’ve been on this ride as long as you have.
I start chopping carrots while Ms. Tori wraps the ice around Tommy’s leg. Once the ice is secure, Ms. Tori straightens up and returns to the stove; I’m practically singing when she does—this means we haven’t fallen for it. I wipe the vegetables off the cutting board into the bowl and carry it to the table. I plop it right in the center of the table and look at Tommy. When he shakes himself out of his daze to look at me, I smile. looks like you haven’t won this round.
He freezes and watches me as I finish setting the table and sit across from him. It feels good to have the upper hand on him, so I say the first thing I can think of to throw him off guard. “So, Mike called and he had some interesting things to say.” I can tell his mental tirade stopped abruptly when he practically chokes on his own spit. He sits up and Ms. Tori snaps around; both eye me warily, waiting for my next words.
“Anything you want to own up to, Tommy?” I say, letting my subconscious take the reins. While I watch the emotions flit across his face, I think about the last time I out maneuvered Tommy.
He massages my shoulder as he kisses below my left ear. I feel myself start to melt into our old gesture before I pull myself away. He doesn’t notice and makes for Ms. Tori. “Hey ma, smells great,” he starts as he hugs her from behind, “what’re we having?”
I see Ms. Tori’s head turn a little towards him before snapping back to the stove, she says stiffly, “dinner. Set the table.” I want to cheer and hug her; she’s standing her ground, the dear, she’s trying to not fall for his charms. I straighten up in my chair; if she can do it, I certainly can. I turn back to chopping lettuce for the salad while Tommy starts to set the table.
I watch him with my peripheral vision as he sets the table. He keeps glancing between Ms. Tori, the table and me; gauging our defenses to find his way under our skin. He pauses for a moment then heads across the kitchen to the pantry. Once he leaves the kitchen, Ms. Tori and I look at each other and mouth frantic questions at each other. Before we can pause and understand each other, we hear him walking back into the kitchen; we both turn back to our tasks but eye the doorway for the very moment he walks back in. I see him first and I notice he’s limping. My first thought is that he’s faking; I begin to turn away when I see Ms. Tori look toward him. I try to catch her eye to signal to look away, but when I see her stiffen I look back to Tommy. I look just in time to see him drop his sweats back down a swollen ankle. “Tommy, what on earth? What—“ Ms. Tori starts, walking over to him.
He sits sheepishly, “I’m not sure really, but it really hurts.” Ms. Tori lifts his leg onto the chair next to him and starts feeling his leg. She doesn’t look up when she asks me to get some ice; her face intent and focused. I’m filling a dish towel with ice when it hits me—he’s flaunting it as an in. I knot the towel angrily and drop it into Tommy’s lap before going back to my salad bowl. He winces and looks at me, confusion clearly on his face. You’re not getting in that easy I think to myself, I’ve been on this ride as long as you have.
I start chopping carrots while Ms. Tori wraps the ice around Tommy’s leg. Once the ice is secure, Ms. Tori straightens up and returns to the stove; I’m practically singing when she does—this means we haven’t fallen for it. I wipe the vegetables off the cutting board into the bowl and carry it to the table. I plop it right in the center of the table and look at Tommy. When he shakes himself out of his daze to look at me, I smile. looks like you haven’t won this round.
He freezes and watches me as I finish setting the table and sit across from him. It feels good to have the upper hand on him, so I say the first thing I can think of to throw him off guard. “So, Mike called and he had some interesting things to say.” I can tell his mental tirade stopped abruptly when he practically chokes on his own spit. He sits up and Ms. Tori snaps around; both eye me warily, waiting for my next words.
“Anything you want to own up to, Tommy?” I say, letting my subconscious take the reins. While I watch the emotions flit across his face, I think about the last time I out maneuvered Tommy.
Photography
I've decided today to add my photography to this blog; afterall, it is a collection of my work. And as an artist I am more than just words, I capture and channel life in many ways. Photography is just another medium I adore.
Here are a few favorites to begin the photography tide:
This is a self-portrait; "Jump".
My friend Jason learned I was taking his picture and froze up.
We went back to my hometown and I snapped this sky light.
Here are a few favorites to begin the photography tide:
This is a self-portrait; "Jump".
My friend Jason learned I was taking his picture and froze up.
We went back to my hometown and I snapped this sky light.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
"The Men We've Been Through" excerpt
My roommate catches me as I’m trying to sneak into the house. “Out all night and most of the morning, Therese, SPILL.” says Carmen, arms crossed in my bedroom doorway. I roll my eyes and wave her in; she sits on the bed while I try to decide how to tell her about last night. “It all started as a blind date,” I begin, “one I was unwillingly dragged to, mind you…”
.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.
“He’s so hot!”
“You’ll hit it off I know it.”
“Frankly, I don’t know how he’s still single.”
After a while, all these reaffirmations are making me more nervous; what character flaws are they hiding? What odd quirk are they leaving for me to discover when I meet him? I keep asking myself all these questions while I try on outfit after outfit.
Mid-teeth brushing (for the third time) I get a text from one of my gays, “remember you are classy and just looking to get your body touched chillax” I laugh and text back “got it boo, wish me luck, love and lots of action.”
I finally get out of the house and to the restaurant. I park two rows back so I can scout the outside for my possible date—I’m still determined to ditch if he’s an ogre. So much for my brilliant escape, there’s no one outside. I gather my wits and snag my purse.
I get a text before I hit the door from an unfamiliar number, “hey, its ur date stuck in traffic b thr soon.” Annoyed with not only his tardiness but with his spelling I reply, “Who gave you my number?” I plot death to whoever gave my number out while I wait, but I have my suspicions. My phone goes off and “Greg” is all I get. I huff and snap off a text to Greg, “why does this guy have my number? I didn’t even screen him yet.” Greg replies, “Girl. You need your body touched. Calm down.”
I roll my eyes and sit down at the bar, “Long Island iced tea.” The bartender nods and starts pouring. I’m fishing my ID and credit card out of my purse when someone sits next to me. A woodsy scent catches my attention but before I can look at the new arrival, they ask “What’s your poison?”
I glance up and see a tan, lithe guy with a charming smile and dark hair. He quirks an eyebrow and winks, “Can I get you a drink?” Sexual, I think to myself before replying, “Got one, thanks. Long Island iced tea.” As I slide my ID and card to the bartender; the cute guy laughs, “Wow, trying to get drunk are we? Rough day?”
His eyes shine and I feel a rush of warmth through me. I snort, “Yeah, and the worst part isn’t even here yet.” The bartender sets down my drink and I sneak a glance at my handsome bar buddy under the guise of taking a sip. He’s already looking at me, and when our eyes meet he extends a hand. “Hi, I’m the man of your dreams,” he gives as an introduction.
I laugh and shake his hand, “Hello, the woman of your reality, if you’re lucky.” He smiles and we flirt until my phone goes off, “im her where r u” I groan and he looks into my hands at the phone, “Ah, a date, huh?”
“Not quite,” I start, and before I realize it I pour everything out to him; from the lack of action to the creeper I’m supposed to be meeting. He leans back and sips from his lowball, “Wow.” I cringe when I replay what just happened in my head. I signal the bartender for my tab and prepare to leave before I dig a deeper hole.
“Leaving so soon?” I turn surprised, “Oh. Yes and no. I figure I should at least give him an upfront ‘no’, but I’ll be back before you miss me.” He grins, his full lips gorgeous, “You better.” I turn and grin to myself. Wow, I lucked out. Guess there is a balance to the universe.
I giggle and skip a bit to the hostess, “Two for Greg?” She looks at me and chokes back a laugh, “You’re his date?” I start and cock my head, “Sorry?” Wow, what’s going on? “Sorry,” she quickly blurts, “but you’re killer and well…I can tell this is a blind date.” I sigh and ask, “Where is he?” She begins to lead me and turns, “If you need help, I’ll be up here. We girls have to stick together.”
When we round the next corner, I see a stout bald man with a stringy beard. I grimace and whisper to the hostess, “There’s a man at the left end of the bar, ask him if he’ll come to my rescue.” She nods and extends her hand to direct me to my chair. She pats my shoulder as she leaves me to my fate.
I take a deep breath and smile at the man Greg deems a “keeper”. This “keeper” is homelier than a bulldog and eyeballing my breasts. So much for a great personality. I clear my throat hoping to disturb his gaze, but no such luck. I roll my eyes and make a mental note to punch Greg in the throat. “I’m Therese,” I say, thrusting my hand in his sight, “What’s your name?” He finally glances upward and slips his flimsy hand in mine, murmuring, “Pedro.”
His eyes quickly stray back to my chest and I know it’s a lost cause. I desperately glace around, hoping for back up, escape, alien abduction—A N Y T H I N G. Nothing. Sighing, I resign to looking at my menu, angling it as a wall between me and the troll across the table.
After a few moments I hear him muttering to himself and raise my eyes enough to see him with my peripheral vision. His brow is furrowed and eyes closed, “Tracy? Tiffany?” I groan quietly; he’s trying to remember my name. I give him a break, “Pedro, right? See anything on the menu?” He looks relieved, “I was gonna ask you what you wanted, I don’t see nothin.” I shrug and reply, “Not yet let me take a look.” I turn back to the menu, 'don’t see nothin'? Well this certainly couldn’t get any weirder
I’m in the middle of wondering why Greg would think Pedro and I would be compatible when I hear “Psst. Pssst.” I look up, distracted and see Pedro trying to quietly get the attention of a girl at an adjacent table. I quirk an eyebrow and silently watch the scene unfold. The girl finally looks up and glances about, Pedro hisses again and she looks in our direction. He makes kissing noises and gestures over with his head. She looks disgustedly at him, then turns away, dismissing him stoutly.
I laugh quietly at his rejection and keep my eyes on him as he turns to face me again. He sees me looking at him and instead of chagrin, like I expected, he looks upset that I just watched him try to pick up another girl. Upset that he crashed and burned with a witness more like. “What’re you looking at?” he scoffs, interrupting my thought. I stiffen, wasn’t I just the one disrespected here?
I put my menu down and level my gaze, “Excuse me? You’re already rude by trying to pick up another girl while you’re on a date, and now you want to get mad that I saw you do it? Don’t think I want to be on this date anymore than you do. Let’s just call it a night.” He isn’t hearing any of it, “What? You’re lucky to be sitting here with me. I told Greg I’d do him a favor by even doing this.” I shake my head and brace my forehead on my palm, it’s not going to get easy from here. He’s still rambling as I move to grab my bag and leave. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snaps, “you ain’t leavin.”
I look at him incredulously, does he really think I’m going to sit through this? He must not know about me. I start to reply when I see him straighten up and look past me. I roll my eyes; I’m sure he’s started eyeballing another girl. “Leaving so soon?” a familiar voice chimes, “I was just coming to join you.”
I smile a little and look up; my bar friend is there, leaning against the back of my chair, smiling. I have never been so relieved to see a complete stranger, but in this moment I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to be my knight in…pinstriped shirt. He sits next to me, his eyes still on my face, bless his heart, and winks at me.
“Who’s this guy?” Pedro chokes out, his face purpling, “What the hell is he doing here?” We both look at him; I for one had forgotten about Pedro. “Oh this is…” I trail off as I realize I don’t know his name. I glance at him and nod for him to finish the sentence. He laughs and addresses Pedro, “I’m your replacement. We decided you didn’t know how to treat a gorgeous woman, so I volunteered to take her off your hands.”
I snort and quickly take a sip of my water. Pedro’s knuckles are white as he grips the menu; his eyes flit back and forth as he stares the pair of us down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this is my date so leave.” My bar friend sits for a moment before muttering to me, “How’ve you lasted this long with him?”
I don’t answer, I’m still looking at Pedro, frankly amazed at his sudden ownership of this “date”. More like train wreck, I think. “Pedro, I’m leaving, you’ve been nothing but rude since I’ve been here,” and that’s putting it nicely, I add silently before continuing, “But I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” I’m completely out of the chair before Pedro spurts out “You’re going? What? Greg said you were a sure bet!” I freeze in my retreat. “He said what.” I force out, “I’m shocked that he would say that, but that doesn’t mean that you were going to get lucky.
I’m getting more and more upset the longer I’m standing there; called out in front of two complete strangers. One who thought he was gonna bed me and the other I hoped to sleep with; oh joy at my luck, I think bitterly before turning to my bar guy, “I’m sorry if this has given you a bad impression of me, but I’m going to leave before I’m completely humiliated.”
I stalk out of the restaurant before something else can go wrong. Outside I pause to snatch my phone out of my purse; I’ve got to call my best friend and tell her what’s happened. I’m typing her name in my contacts when I hear, “Wait a sec, beautiful.”
.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.
“He’s so hot!”
“You’ll hit it off I know it.”
“Frankly, I don’t know how he’s still single.”
After a while, all these reaffirmations are making me more nervous; what character flaws are they hiding? What odd quirk are they leaving for me to discover when I meet him? I keep asking myself all these questions while I try on outfit after outfit.
Mid-teeth brushing (for the third time) I get a text from one of my gays, “remember you are classy and just looking to get your body touched chillax” I laugh and text back “got it boo, wish me luck, love and lots of action.”
I finally get out of the house and to the restaurant. I park two rows back so I can scout the outside for my possible date—I’m still determined to ditch if he’s an ogre. So much for my brilliant escape, there’s no one outside. I gather my wits and snag my purse.
I get a text before I hit the door from an unfamiliar number, “hey, its ur date stuck in traffic b thr soon.” Annoyed with not only his tardiness but with his spelling I reply, “Who gave you my number?” I plot death to whoever gave my number out while I wait, but I have my suspicions. My phone goes off and “Greg” is all I get. I huff and snap off a text to Greg, “why does this guy have my number? I didn’t even screen him yet.” Greg replies, “Girl. You need your body touched. Calm down.”
I roll my eyes and sit down at the bar, “Long Island iced tea.” The bartender nods and starts pouring. I’m fishing my ID and credit card out of my purse when someone sits next to me. A woodsy scent catches my attention but before I can look at the new arrival, they ask “What’s your poison?”
I glance up and see a tan, lithe guy with a charming smile and dark hair. He quirks an eyebrow and winks, “Can I get you a drink?” Sexual, I think to myself before replying, “Got one, thanks. Long Island iced tea.” As I slide my ID and card to the bartender; the cute guy laughs, “Wow, trying to get drunk are we? Rough day?”
His eyes shine and I feel a rush of warmth through me. I snort, “Yeah, and the worst part isn’t even here yet.” The bartender sets down my drink and I sneak a glance at my handsome bar buddy under the guise of taking a sip. He’s already looking at me, and when our eyes meet he extends a hand. “Hi, I’m the man of your dreams,” he gives as an introduction.
I laugh and shake his hand, “Hello, the woman of your reality, if you’re lucky.” He smiles and we flirt until my phone goes off, “im her where r u” I groan and he looks into my hands at the phone, “Ah, a date, huh?”
“Not quite,” I start, and before I realize it I pour everything out to him; from the lack of action to the creeper I’m supposed to be meeting. He leans back and sips from his lowball, “Wow.” I cringe when I replay what just happened in my head. I signal the bartender for my tab and prepare to leave before I dig a deeper hole.
“Leaving so soon?” I turn surprised, “Oh. Yes and no. I figure I should at least give him an upfront ‘no’, but I’ll be back before you miss me.” He grins, his full lips gorgeous, “You better.” I turn and grin to myself. Wow, I lucked out. Guess there is a balance to the universe.
I giggle and skip a bit to the hostess, “Two for Greg?” She looks at me and chokes back a laugh, “You’re his date?” I start and cock my head, “Sorry?” Wow, what’s going on? “Sorry,” she quickly blurts, “but you’re killer and well…I can tell this is a blind date.” I sigh and ask, “Where is he?” She begins to lead me and turns, “If you need help, I’ll be up here. We girls have to stick together.”
When we round the next corner, I see a stout bald man with a stringy beard. I grimace and whisper to the hostess, “There’s a man at the left end of the bar, ask him if he’ll come to my rescue.” She nods and extends her hand to direct me to my chair. She pats my shoulder as she leaves me to my fate.
I take a deep breath and smile at the man Greg deems a “keeper”. This “keeper” is homelier than a bulldog and eyeballing my breasts. So much for a great personality. I clear my throat hoping to disturb his gaze, but no such luck. I roll my eyes and make a mental note to punch Greg in the throat. “I’m Therese,” I say, thrusting my hand in his sight, “What’s your name?” He finally glances upward and slips his flimsy hand in mine, murmuring, “Pedro.”
His eyes quickly stray back to my chest and I know it’s a lost cause. I desperately glace around, hoping for back up, escape, alien abduction—A N Y T H I N G. Nothing. Sighing, I resign to looking at my menu, angling it as a wall between me and the troll across the table.
After a few moments I hear him muttering to himself and raise my eyes enough to see him with my peripheral vision. His brow is furrowed and eyes closed, “Tracy? Tiffany?” I groan quietly; he’s trying to remember my name. I give him a break, “Pedro, right? See anything on the menu?” He looks relieved, “I was gonna ask you what you wanted, I don’t see nothin.” I shrug and reply, “Not yet let me take a look.” I turn back to the menu, 'don’t see nothin'? Well this certainly couldn’t get any weirder
I’m in the middle of wondering why Greg would think Pedro and I would be compatible when I hear “Psst. Pssst.” I look up, distracted and see Pedro trying to quietly get the attention of a girl at an adjacent table. I quirk an eyebrow and silently watch the scene unfold. The girl finally looks up and glances about, Pedro hisses again and she looks in our direction. He makes kissing noises and gestures over with his head. She looks disgustedly at him, then turns away, dismissing him stoutly.
I laugh quietly at his rejection and keep my eyes on him as he turns to face me again. He sees me looking at him and instead of chagrin, like I expected, he looks upset that I just watched him try to pick up another girl. Upset that he crashed and burned with a witness more like. “What’re you looking at?” he scoffs, interrupting my thought. I stiffen, wasn’t I just the one disrespected here?
I put my menu down and level my gaze, “Excuse me? You’re already rude by trying to pick up another girl while you’re on a date, and now you want to get mad that I saw you do it? Don’t think I want to be on this date anymore than you do. Let’s just call it a night.” He isn’t hearing any of it, “What? You’re lucky to be sitting here with me. I told Greg I’d do him a favor by even doing this.” I shake my head and brace my forehead on my palm, it’s not going to get easy from here. He’s still rambling as I move to grab my bag and leave. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snaps, “you ain’t leavin.”
I look at him incredulously, does he really think I’m going to sit through this? He must not know about me. I start to reply when I see him straighten up and look past me. I roll my eyes; I’m sure he’s started eyeballing another girl. “Leaving so soon?” a familiar voice chimes, “I was just coming to join you.”
I smile a little and look up; my bar friend is there, leaning against the back of my chair, smiling. I have never been so relieved to see a complete stranger, but in this moment I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to be my knight in…pinstriped shirt. He sits next to me, his eyes still on my face, bless his heart, and winks at me.
“Who’s this guy?” Pedro chokes out, his face purpling, “What the hell is he doing here?” We both look at him; I for one had forgotten about Pedro. “Oh this is…” I trail off as I realize I don’t know his name. I glance at him and nod for him to finish the sentence. He laughs and addresses Pedro, “I’m your replacement. We decided you didn’t know how to treat a gorgeous woman, so I volunteered to take her off your hands.”
I snort and quickly take a sip of my water. Pedro’s knuckles are white as he grips the menu; his eyes flit back and forth as he stares the pair of us down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but this is my date so leave.” My bar friend sits for a moment before muttering to me, “How’ve you lasted this long with him?”
I don’t answer, I’m still looking at Pedro, frankly amazed at his sudden ownership of this “date”. More like train wreck, I think. “Pedro, I’m leaving, you’ve been nothing but rude since I’ve been here,” and that’s putting it nicely, I add silently before continuing, “But I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” I’m completely out of the chair before Pedro spurts out “You’re going? What? Greg said you were a sure bet!” I freeze in my retreat. “He said what.” I force out, “I’m shocked that he would say that, but that doesn’t mean that you were going to get lucky.
I’m getting more and more upset the longer I’m standing there; called out in front of two complete strangers. One who thought he was gonna bed me and the other I hoped to sleep with; oh joy at my luck, I think bitterly before turning to my bar guy, “I’m sorry if this has given you a bad impression of me, but I’m going to leave before I’m completely humiliated.”
I stalk out of the restaurant before something else can go wrong. Outside I pause to snatch my phone out of my purse; I’ve got to call my best friend and tell her what’s happened. I’m typing her name in my contacts when I hear, “Wait a sec, beautiful.”
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