drink? As in…?” Her mouth kept trying to form the phrase, “a date,” but something kept her from saying the words out loud. The big, tall, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered, curly-haired man she talked to yesterday wasn’t calling her back for a date. Right? He couldn’t be.
“As in a drink,” he finished for her. “Back at Jimmy’s? I could meet you there, or I could come over to your place and pick you up.”
“No!” Sarah burst out with much more feeling and volume than she had intended. Dropping her bag she ran her hand through her hair, trying to settle her thoughts. “No, you don’t need to pick me up,” she added. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be happy to meet you there. At Jimmy’s. For a drink. What time?”
He chuckled in what Sarah could only hope was gentle amusement rather than dismay. “How about eight o’clock?”
“Eight o’clock. Right. I’ll be there.”
“OK.”
“All right, then.”
“Uh, yeah. Either one of us will need to say ‘goodbye,’ or else this conversation will continue until our phones run out of juice or we lose consciousness, whichever comes first.”
“Right,” she said, smiling to herself. “I’ll go first: goodbye, Brad.”
“Bye. See you soon.” He hung up.
Sarah remained standing in the dark for quite some time, wondering what had just happened. If she was not mistaken – and she still was not certain that she was not, in fact, completely deluded about the situation – she had just been asked out on a date by a professional athlete. And sure, he was a former professional athlete, and yes, they were in Tall Pines where the pickings were slim, or at least less robust than they would be in a larger city. But still, it would seem that she had just been asked out on a date by a tall, beautiful man, and Sarah was not the sort of woman that this sort of thing happened to. Ellie, sure. Ellie was always in high demand among the sporty men, in high school and later. Sarah, though, was more likely to draw the attention of the president of the Math Club.
A small voice in the back of her head noted that she should probably be worrying about her hair, clothes, and makeup right now. Everything in the situation seemed so unreal, though, that she still hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. She felt quite certain that any moment now the alarm at her bedside would go off and wake her from this dream, or a bunch of people would jump out of the closet and shout, “April Fool!”
Only it wasn’t April, and she wasn’t asleep, and it was past 7:00 already so she had to find something to eat otherwise she’d be drinking on an empty stomach. With that the rational, planning portion of Sarah’s mind took over and got her body into motion. Without really thinking about it, she decided that she wasn’t going to dress up for the occasion. He wasn’t really interested in her, so she wasn’t going to waste the lipstick on him. She would maybe brush her teeth before heading out, and she’d brush her hair because there seemed to be two or three burrs tangled up in the blonde strands, souvenirs from the forest this afternoon. She would check her breath and make sure that her armpits didn’t smell too bad, but that was it – that was all Brad was getting from her that night.
She was more nervous than she liked when she met him outside the bar, where he was waiting as she walked up. “Hi,” she said in what sounded to her like a little-girl voice. She had come determined to project the aura of a confident career woman, a successful entrepreneur in control of her own fate who definitely did not feel intimidated because some muscle-bound jock asked her out for a drink. She maintained that confidence until the moment she saw Brad, at which point all self-assurance left her body with the violence of oxygen escaping from a damaged spacecraft.
“Hi,” he said, and reached out a hand to take hers and give it a little squeeze. Still holding her hand, he
“As in a drink,” he finished for her. “Back at Jimmy’s? I could meet you there, or I could come over to your place and pick you up.”
“No!” Sarah burst out with much more feeling and volume than she had intended. Dropping her bag she ran her hand through her hair, trying to settle her thoughts. “No, you don’t need to pick me up,” she added. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be happy to meet you there. At Jimmy’s. For a drink. What time?”
He chuckled in what Sarah could only hope was gentle amusement rather than dismay. “How about eight o’clock?”
“Eight o’clock. Right. I’ll be there.”
“OK.”
“All right, then.”
“Uh, yeah. Either one of us will need to say ‘goodbye,’ or else this conversation will continue until our phones run out of juice or we lose consciousness, whichever comes first.”
“Right,” she said, smiling to herself. “I’ll go first: goodbye, Brad.”
“Bye. See you soon.” He hung up.
Sarah remained standing in the dark for quite some time, wondering what had just happened. If she was not mistaken – and she still was not certain that she was not, in fact, completely deluded about the situation – she had just been asked out on a date by a professional athlete. And sure, he was a former professional athlete, and yes, they were in Tall Pines where the pickings were slim, or at least less robust than they would be in a larger city. But still, it would seem that she had just been asked out on a date by a tall, beautiful man, and Sarah was not the sort of woman that this sort of thing happened to. Ellie, sure. Ellie was always in high demand among the sporty men, in high school and later. Sarah, though, was more likely to draw the attention of the president of the Math Club.
A small voice in the back of her head noted that she should probably be worrying about her hair, clothes, and makeup right now. Everything in the situation seemed so unreal, though, that she still hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. She felt quite certain that any moment now the alarm at her bedside would go off and wake her from this dream, or a bunch of people would jump out of the closet and shout, “April Fool!”
Only it wasn’t April, and she wasn’t asleep, and it was past 7:00 already so she had to find something to eat otherwise she’d be drinking on an empty stomach. With that the rational, planning portion of Sarah’s mind took over and got her body into motion. Without really thinking about it, she decided that she wasn’t going to dress up for the occasion. He wasn’t really interested in her, so she wasn’t going to waste the lipstick on him. She would maybe brush her teeth before heading out, and she’d brush her hair because there seemed to be two or three burrs tangled up in the blonde strands, souvenirs from the forest this afternoon. She would check her breath and make sure that her armpits didn’t smell too bad, but that was it – that was all Brad was getting from her that night.
She was more nervous than she liked when she met him outside the bar, where he was waiting as she walked up. “Hi,” she said in what sounded to her like a little-girl voice. She had come determined to project the aura of a confident career woman, a successful entrepreneur in control of her own fate who definitely did not feel intimidated because some muscle-bound jock asked her out for a drink. She maintained that confidence until the moment she saw Brad, at which point all self-assurance left her body with the violence of oxygen escaping from a damaged spacecraft.
“Hi,” he said, and reached out a hand to take hers and give it a little squeeze. Still holding her hand, he
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