Tag Archives: dating

Read a Comic in Public Day

He was sitting on the bench on his street reading The Walking Dead when the stranger approached him.

“Hi there. Reading a comic, huh?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“In public?”

“Yeah, that’s the general idea.”

“You know Read a Comic in Public Day was yesterday, right?”

He looked over his copy of The Walking Dead and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re a day late,” she said with a sly smile.

“I worked all day yesterday. A double. And it doesn’t have to be Read a Comic in Public Day to read a comic in public. Maybe I sit here every Sunday and read. Maybe I read novels, literature, classics, and everything else on Sundays. Maybe this week just happens to be a comic.”

“Maybe,” she said with a hint of doubt, “But I doubt it,” she finished as she sat next to him. “Walking Dead, huh? Like zombies?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“True, true. So what did you read sitting here last week? War and Peace? Great Gatsby, perhaps?”

His face turned the slightest hint of red. “The Last Man,” he mumbled.

“Thought so,” she smiled.

She riffled through her bag and pulled out an earlier copy of The Walking Dead.

“Mind if I join you? I worked a double yesterday too.”

“Sure.”

She opened it to page one. “Just don’t tell me what happens. You’re ahead of me.”

He continued to read, but now with a big smile on his face.

Checking Out

Every Tuesday he checked out a book,

trying to get up the nerve to ask the cute librarian on a date.

Made with old library supplies and my Brother Charger 11 typewriter.

Blind Date

I walked up to our regular table in the bland office cafeteria to find Darlene and Shauna deep in conversation. I pulled out a chair and quietly joined them.

“…so I thought of you right away,” finished Darlene.

“I’m not even looking to date, though,” Shauna responded.

Darlene sighed, rolled her eyes, and gave her a look. “I met him at a Walmart… how bad could he be?”

Shauna shifted in her seat and finally recognized the fact that I sat down.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good. They were out of tuna salad. What’s going on?”

“Darlene met some random guy at the Walmart the other day, struck up a conversation with him, and then decided he was my dream guy.”

Darlene frowned. “He’s good looking, and has a job!”

“What’s his job? I won’t date another landscaper…”

“He’s got some office job, not sure. But he’s good looking!”

“Does he have red hair? Because I don’t want to date someone with red hair.”

“I already told you, his hair is brown. And no, before you ask, he’s not balding.”

Shauna looked at me. “She actually asked the guy if he thought he would bald eventually. With me right there on the phone. Can you believe that?”

I shook my head no and I brushed my hand through my own hair, wondering.

“Then she handed me the phone, and I had what was probably the most awkward conversation in my life.”

“He’s nice!” she added. “I would date him if I weren’t already married to Pete.”

“Does he have a lisp or a limp?” Shauna asked.

“Huh?”

“DOES HE HAVE A LISP OR A LIMP? I won’t date a guy who has either.”

“You talked to him, did it sound like he had a lisp?” she asked.

“No, but still.”

“No. To both. No limp, no lisp.”

“Wait,” I broke in. “What if he had a limp, but it was only temporary?” Shauna looked at me like I was crazy. “Like if he stubbed his toe, like an hour ago. Or that time I sprained my ankle. I had a limp, but it wasn’t permanent…”

Shauna looked away from me and back to Darlene. “Okay let me ask you this. Does he look like he would spend a lot of time playing Modern Warfare? Because I’ve done that already… I do not want to date someone else who plays video games ninety percent of the time.”

Darlene shook her head. “I don’t think so. I didn’t ask…”

“Is he a Trekkie?”

“A what?”

“Star Trek! Does he look like he would watch a lot of weird TV shows?”

“I think he watches Lost. Is that similar?”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this conversation. It seemed scary to experience a woman’s thought process as she decided if someone is date-worthy. I wondered if all women thought this way, or if this was just Shauna’s perspective. I did secretly love Lost, but I wasn’t sure which way she leaned on that topic.

“Darlene, come on. Do you think he’s crazy?”

“Crazy how?”

“Crazy crazy, you know. Is he a creeper?”

“What’s a creeper?”

“Someone creepy.”

“Would I set you up with someone creepy?

“I don’t know. Is he creepy?”

Darlene sighed again and took a bite of her sandwich to keep from answering.

“You do have to be careful with crazy,” I blurted, trying to fill in the quiet. “I once dated a girl who wouldn’t let me look at her in the morning.”

All eyes pointed towards me like a lobster had just crawled out of my pants.

“What?” they both said.

“She had some sort of mental thing… she’d spend an hour in the bathroom every morning before I could look at her.”

Awkward silence.

“Body dysmorphic disorder! That’s what it’s called.”

Still staring at me.

“Although sometimes I think she spent most of the time in the bathroom crying…”

I should probably shut up.

“What?”

“That’s… that’s really crazy, Ben. That can’t have been a good relationship.”

I looked down at my food. “It was okay.”

Darlene surprised me. “So that means there was no morning sex? Damn, I love morning sex. What a great way to start the day.”

Now all eyes were on her.

“What?”

“TMI, Darlene,” Shauna said.

“What’s TMI?”

We both rolled our eyes.

Darlene continued. “Didn’t he add you on Facebook?”

I looked up. I didn’t even know Shauna had a Facebook. Why wasn’t I her friend on there?

“Yup.”

“Then you saw his pictures. He has some up, right?”

“Yeah… but pictures… I dunno…”

I broke in. “People always pick the ones they look best in, and sometimes they are lies.  The photos could be old, or even someone else! Or just from a good angle. I once had this Internet date and the girl…”

“Okay, stop right there,” interrupted Darlene. “He’s not a bad looking guy in real life. Okay? Can you take my word for it?”

No response.

“Well anyway, the guy doesn’t have a limp or a lisp, he has a full head of not-red hair, and as far as I know he’s not a sci-fi nerd or a Trekkie or anything else but a normal guy.”

“Except he shops at Walmart.”

“Except for that, yes.”

“I don’t shop at Walmart,” I said. I thought about just shutting up, since every single thing I said got me odd looks.

Darlene picked up her tray. “Okay, I’m done. I’ve got to get back to the office; we’re buried in work up there. Have a nice date tonight!”

Shauna and I waved goodbye.

“You’re going out with him tonight?”

Shauna nodded.

“Well… good luck?”

She nodded again.

“How long have you known Darlene?”

“Five days?”

Under the Juniper Tree

<play> for a better reading experience

“Meet me under the juniper tree,” was all that the note said, and so as she reached the summit of the hill on her vintage green bicycle, she saw a picnic blanket, basket, and an opened bottle of wine.  And, of course, her boyfriend.

“Cute,” she said as she approached him, leaving the bike propped against the tree.  The blanket, an old plaid one from the sixties they’d bought at a yard sale, was held down on each corner by different objects:  his journal, the wine, a stack of 45s, and the old battery-operated 45 player they scored at a thrift shop.  He moved the needle over the 45 already on the player, and Woman by John Lennon started playing as he stood up and reached his hand out.

“Care to dance?”

She took his hand and they danced under the juniper tree, the wind blowing through the prickly leaves, berries dropping here and there, one landing in her hair.  He reached out and pulled it out, fixed her hair where it was messy from his fingers, and then returned his hand to its original position on the hip of her plaid t-shirt dress.

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” she asked.  He smiled.  “Don’t get a big head over this.  It’s impressive, yes, but still, don’t get cocky.”  Her smile told him he was doing a good job.  “So what’s the occasion?”

He thought about it as they slowly rotated, moving from sun to shade and back again.  He finally shrugged.  “No occasion.  Just felt like it.”

Her arms squeezed a little tighter, making him exhale a little, move his hand up to the back of her head and into her hair, and he brought his lips to hers.  She made a tiny sound, letting him know the feeling of excitement in his chest was shared.

The 45 finished playing, and he stopped kissing and released her, returning to the blanket and opening the basket as she just stood there, a bit dazed.

“I got us hummus, pita, and of course, for you, green olives.  Blech!” he said as he opened the jar and some of the liquid spilled on his hand.  He placed everything on the blanket as she walked over, took her flip flops off and sat, knees together and feet under her.

“How thoughtful!  Try one.”

“No.”

“Have you ever had one?”

“As a kid, yes,  Gross.”  He squinched his face so she understood he didn’t like them.

“Just try one.  For me.”  He looked at her, she pushed out her lower lip, letting him know he didn’t really have a choice.  He opened his mouth, and she threw one at him, missing completely as it rolled down his vintage brown shirt, leaving a small trail of wet brine.

“Nice,” he said, smiling at her as he dabbed at the trail with a napkin.  He picked up the olive and threw it into his mouth.

She watched.

“Well?”

“What?”

She laughed.  “You like it, don’t you.”

“No!” he said with a sound of defensiveness in his voice.  She smiled.

“You don’t have to admit it.  But I know you do.”

He put out the food as she poured the wine into plastic cups.  They ate in silence for a while, taking turns removing the berries from the hummus as they fell from the tree.

“This is nice,” she said to him after a sip of wine.  He smiled at her and refilled her cup, and then his.  She spread more hummus onto her pita and then passed it over to him.  He took a bite and was surprised.

“There was an olive hidden in there!”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a curt smile.  He laughed.

“You’re trouble, you know that?”  She nodded.

He spread some hummus on a piece of pita and took a bite.

He thought about it for a few seconds, and after much deliberation said, “Can you pass me the olives?”

After a know-it-all smile at him, she passed him the olives, and a berry bounced right off the bridge of her nose, making both of them laugh.

And Adore Her He Did (flash nonfiction)

Based on a true story.

The date had been great so far, and he was nervous when he suggested they head to his place to listen to records, but he knew his intentions were fairly innocent.  She accepted following some hesitation, and after a quick tour of the downstairs they sat on opposite sides of his plaid couch, chatting as the album Colours by Claudine Longet played.

They talked about all kinds of things people talk about when getting to know one another, and as the conversation continued, the record ended and he flipped it and returned to her.

It wasn’t until he’d switched to Donovan’s Greatest Hits, a few albums later, that he noticed that every time he got up to switch the record, she nonchalantly inched a bit closer to his side.  Once he realized this, his heart sped up a bit, but  started returning to the couch a bit closer as well, until their knees were touching during “God Help the Girl” by Stuart Murdoch.

It wasn’t until Astrud Gilberto’s “The Shadow of Your Smile” that her finger poked his hand playfully, and he opened it, inviting hers in.  She smiled, looked at him with her big, greenish-brown eyes, and their fingers intertwined as she rested her head onto his shoulder.

They talked about music, life, everything, as the needle played beautiful music into the air, and she pushed into him a little more, making the butterflies explode in his chest.  He put his arm around her and held her a little tighter as they discussed exes, quirks and other oddities that naturally came up in conversation.

The record stopped, and he didn’t want to get up this time.  He enjoyed having this girl in his arms, and she squeezed him, subtly telling him not to get up, but he wanted to put on one more record.  She’d mentioned a certain someone she liked, and so he felt it was his obligation to play it for her, to show her that he not only listened to what she said, but that he valued it.

“I really don’t want to get up, but we need more music,” he said as she gave him a sad look but released him from her hold.  He walked over to the shelf and searched for the one he was looking for, found it, and before she knew it the needle was lowering onto the vinyl and he was returning to his original position on the couch.

The song “Come Dance With Me” started and she smiled, recognizing his attempt to impress her by playing The Best of Frank Sinatra, and she held him a little tighter.  He felt that enlightened feeling boys get sometimes when they know they impressed a girl they like, and they talked and cuddled a bit more as the needle slowly made its way across the record to the last song, “Put Your Dreams Away,” at which point he made to get up, she sat up, and he kissed her.  Their first kiss, as the lyrics played, “Let your kiss confess this happiness, darling, and put all your dreams away.”

“Good timing,” she said.  He didn’t mention it was purely chance.  He didn’t even know the lyrics to the song, and listened.  “When your dreams at night fade before you, then I’ll have the right to adore you.”

And adore her he did.

Come Here (A Flash Fiction Story)

“Have any of your friends ever told you that you could do better?”

She looked up from the book she was reading, shifted her weight on the park bench and looked at him, gave him a half-smile, then looked down at her shoes.

“So they have then.”

“Why?  What does it matter?”

“Curious, I guess.”

She looked him in the eye and then fixed his hair a bit in the front.

“It doesn’t matter.  I like you.”  She smiled her biggest, friendliest smile.

“Like?”

“You know…” she smiled again, a little embarrassed.

“It’s just…” he started.

She gave him a look, waiting, urging him to finish his thought.

“You’re so beautiful, and let’s face it, I’m average on a good day.”

She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.  You’re just silly.”

He looked at her, a little hurt.

“Oh come on!  I’ve had a crush on you since I read your first short story.  And then the way you were shaking a little when you asked me on that first date…adorable!”

“You said you couldn’t tell!”

A small laugh escaped her, but then hid her mouth behind her hand.  He relaxed a bit.

She playfully shoved him and he shoved her back.  Then she stopped and looked at him, her smile fading.

“Come here.”  She waved him closer to her.

“I’m here.”

“No, HERE!”  He inched a bit closer, and she gave him a look, forcing him to scoot right up alongside of her.

“I like you,” she said, gently resting her head on his shoulder.  She smiled again.

“I think I could do better,” he said with a sly smile on his face.