It's a Service, Really (On Hold)

5. The Great Gross Teddy Bear

Chapter 5

The Great Gross Teddy Bear

***

"Awh shit," mumbled the burly man sitting across the table from me.

"Uhh... is there a problem, Mike?" I asked. He had shouted this expletive with no due reason.

"I think I left my wallet at home," he stated matter-of-factly.

This wasn't okay or ideal in any way. "Please tell me you didn't do that." I hoped to everything I knew that he was lying.

He looked at me tentatively, analyzing my facial reaction. "Fooled ya!" He laughed loudly, ignoring the concept of manners, following suit with what he'd done on the rest of this date. "I was pulling yer leg!"

Even his little accent was annoying the Hell out of me.

He took a giant bite of the chicken wing he had in his hand, getting barbeque sauce all over his face.

Offering a smile at this was mighty difficult. He bought it though and beamed right back at me effectively. "I'd always wanted a girl who appreciated my humor!"

Again, I tried my best with the smile as he took another gross bite of the last wing he had. "You... uh, got a little something," I said, pointing to the corner of my own cheek.

"So polite!" He snatched the napkin next to my plate and wiped it over his mouth quickly, missing the majority of it. "I've never been out with a girl as polite as ya."

The guy was amazed by me and it made me come to a realization that he probably had some terrible luck with dating in his past. He thought I was having a genuinely great time, but it was all so fake. This was actually worse than my date with Jay by a long shot. This was like the icky, yet sad type of service I had to do, versus the Jay date which was just the boring stereotypical kind of thing... until his oddball comments and second date happened. That was just weird.

I couldn't help but compare my latest dates to Jay's. I just can't get the whole "relax" concept off my mind.

Suddenly, remembering Mike's compliment, I thanked him. A warm smile pattered onto his big face. He was about thirty, but looked much older. He'd told me earlier that "working in construction did that to you."

"Would you like a dessert, ma'am?" he asked, referring back to the usage of being polite. "My treat, of course," he said with a wink.

"Sure, whatever you want." He looked excited at my response and picked up the list of desserts. This was not exactly one of the more classy food joints I'd been to – a local wing place. I enjoyed it though... at least a little; it was a loud, but fun place to be. I'd even had a little bit to drink, which I didn't do often. It was the atmosphere inside that got me, definitely not my date.

He picked something out and called over the waitress, winking and lending a stern stare to her behind as she walked off.

"Ah, nice night. Really, this is great." He didn't have a particularly expansive vocabulary. He used the word "great" at least ten times per five minutes. He pushed his short, slightly orange hair back a little bit. Despite its length, it was gelled to the max.

"I think we are having a very productive time," I responded, twirling some of my own hair around my pinky finger.

"Yes, correct ya are. I'll sleep well tonight!" He looked down at the table, hoping there might be a scrap of food left. He eyeballed my own plate, seeing the last chicken wing there.