The First Date
By Todd Brabander
I like the word "swimmingly".
I liked it when someone says "How did it go?" and you answer "Swimmingly".
This was not going swimmingly. This was quite the opposite. Drowningly?
I thought her clipboard made her look pretentious. There was a big sticker that said "Delta Airlines" on the back of it. She was beautiful and impatient in equal parts.
"I'm more of a triple threat" I continued.
"The problem is I need to drink a lot to be any good at the third threat, and, well, that sort've ruins the previous two threats". I smirked.
She stared at me unamused for nearly all of a minute.
"Do you even know what a triple threat is?" she asked. Her head slowly lobbing to one side.
"Yes," I replied.
She looked as though she was trying to read words on my face.
Do you?!" She chirped.
Her persistence was unnerving. Her gaze was pointed. I wondered if this was a good time for her.
"Yes." I repeated.
"How many states can you name?" She asked. Her eyes dropped back to her clipboard.
"All of them, I guess. Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, Nevada..."
I suddenly regretted ever emailing her. I was so sure this would be fun, but all the wine we drank basically insured I'd either wind up looking like an asshole or an idiot. So far I was leaning toward idiot. This was a bad idea. Being tied to a chair was a bad idea.
She sighed, "You forgot West Virginia."
"I'm pretty sure I said West Virginia".
She looked at her cell phone.
I started to talk, "Ya know, I can name a lot of game show hosts... Chuck Woolery. Pat Sajak. Bob Saget."
It seemed so brilliant before I opened my mouth.
"Bob Saget wasn't a game show host" she snapped from behind the clipboard.
"He was a host of a show... I, I can name a lot show hosts" I explained.
The wine made me feel like I had a fever. I was sure she had been drinking too. Maybe not. My face was numb.
She stared at me for a long time, "Tell me, how many cheeses can you name?"
I thought for a moment. Then a thought a bit longer.
"Blue? Provolone? Uh, Jack? Gouda? Cheeses... Christ"
She pulled off her cowboy hat and began fanning herself as though it were warm in the room. She leaned way back in her chair. I could almost see up her skirt, but I didn't dare say anything.
"Cheeses Christ?" she sneered.
I smiled a shameful and stupid smile.
She made several quick marks on her clipboard, glanced at her cell phone, and gave me my clothes back.
"Do you have any questions for me?" she asked.
I had a million of them. Are we going to have sex? What were those pills I took? What did you do with my wallet? I glanced at the back of her clipboard and (of course) asked the stupid question...
"Are you really an airline pilot?"
She looked up at me as though I had said something important...
"No" she said.
"No?" I asked.
"Yes." She said.
"Yes?" I asked.
Yes, well.. actually no, I am." She explained.
By Todd Brabander
I like the word "swimmingly".
I liked it when someone says "How did it go?" and you answer "Swimmingly".
This was not going swimmingly. This was quite the opposite. Drowningly?
I thought her clipboard made her look pretentious. There was a big sticker that said "Delta Airlines" on the back of it. She was beautiful and impatient in equal parts.
"I'm more of a triple threat" I continued.
"The problem is I need to drink a lot to be any good at the third threat, and, well, that sort've ruins the previous two threats". I smirked.
She stared at me unamused for nearly all of a minute.
"Do you even know what a triple threat is?" she asked. Her head slowly lobbing to one side.
"Yes," I replied.
She looked as though she was trying to read words on my face.
Do you?!" She chirped.
Her persistence was unnerving. Her gaze was pointed. I wondered if this was a good time for her.
"Yes." I repeated.
"How many states can you name?" She asked. Her eyes dropped back to her clipboard.
"All of them, I guess. Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, Nevada..."
I suddenly regretted ever emailing her. I was so sure this would be fun, but all the wine we drank basically insured I'd either wind up looking like an asshole or an idiot. So far I was leaning toward idiot. This was a bad idea. Being tied to a chair was a bad idea.
She sighed, "You forgot West Virginia."
"I'm pretty sure I said West Virginia".
She looked at her cell phone.
I started to talk, "Ya know, I can name a lot of game show hosts... Chuck Woolery. Pat Sajak. Bob Saget."
It seemed so brilliant before I opened my mouth.
"Bob Saget wasn't a game show host" she snapped from behind the clipboard.
"He was a host of a show... I, I can name a lot show hosts" I explained.
The wine made me feel like I had a fever. I was sure she had been drinking too. Maybe not. My face was numb.
She stared at me for a long time, "Tell me, how many cheeses can you name?"
I thought for a moment. Then a thought a bit longer.
"Blue? Provolone? Uh, Jack? Gouda? Cheeses... Christ"
She pulled off her cowboy hat and began fanning herself as though it were warm in the room. She leaned way back in her chair. I could almost see up her skirt, but I didn't dare say anything.
"Cheeses Christ?" she sneered.
I smiled a shameful and stupid smile.
She made several quick marks on her clipboard, glanced at her cell phone, and gave me my clothes back.
"Do you have any questions for me?" she asked.
I had a million of them. Are we going to have sex? What were those pills I took? What did you do with my wallet? I glanced at the back of her clipboard and (of course) asked the stupid question...
"Are you really an airline pilot?"
She looked up at me as though I had said something important...
"No" she said.
"No?" I asked.
"Yes." She said.
"Yes?" I asked.
Yes, well.. actually no, I am." She explained.