Life Happens | ONC 2024

Chapter 8

BLANCHE

Blanche: I need you to call me in five minutes and get me out of here.

Marisol: Level 1 or 10 emergency?

Blanche: Level 10.

Marisol: OK, put me on speakerphone, I'll cry and everything.

The Tinder date thing was a bust.

After all the unnecessary baking denominations for my womanly curves and bakery puns imaginable, Doug's intention was clearly to wet his stick and continue riding the next wave as they came.

What could I ever expect from a beach bum guy with the name Doug?

The visit to Hotcakes was not only creepy stalkerish, it was his way of scooping out the goods before even going on the date. See if it was worth the time to invite me to some cheesy fries in a small diner at the beachfront.

I definitely made the cut, with the cherry printed fabric 60s dress I was wearing with a low plunging neckline. He hasn't made eye contact once, and keeps dipping lower with looney eyes as he converses with my cleavage. I know I'm well served in the boob department, but does he have to make it that obvious for the rest of the establishment?

"Have you finished your fries?" Doug asks finally, not waiting for an answer and pulling the plate over to his side.

I control myself to not roll my eyes at him. What a gentleman with impeccable table manners.

Guess I made it awkward for him when I texted SOS to Marisol to come pick me up from the disaster. I'm not setting a foot in the wrecked scrap Doug called a car so he could make another move on the way back to town. I have endured enough.

My phone rings. My savior. "Sorry, I have to take this," I mumble while Doug is stuffing his face with the gooey cheese fries. "Oh, no!" Thus begins the performance of a lifetime. "Of course, I'm here for you. I'm leaving now," I cue as Marisol starts crying loudly. Standing up, I gather my cherry-red purse from below my seat. "I have to go."

Doug looks up at me, gives me a weird nod with his mouth filled with the food I didn't even get to touch. "Shu-mm-re."

Interpreting that as an okay exit, I dart out of the shack and I make my way through the sandy beach until I reach the graveled road as fast as I can in high-heeled pumps.

I don't even know why I did all the effort today for that stupid ass. Especially when I didn't really want to do this dating app thing. Yet I couldn't disappoint Marisol when all she wanted was to give me a nudge.

"I'm sorry, Blanquita," Marisol looks apologetic as she comes to pick me up at the beach walk. She steps out of her car and runs into me for a hug.

Ever since I lost my mother, I crave her motherly touches and hugs. The way she cared for me when I was little and was sick. The comfort food she made when someone laughed at the funky colors I dyed my hair. Her well-timed advice when something wasn't going right at school.

Marisol is a great friend, and I think that when you become a mom, you get some kind of superpower and you learn how to give these incredible hugs, that I lean just a little bit longer into them.

"It's okay," I mutter. "Thank you for picking me up. It was a bad date."

Understatement, but I also was constantly thinking about Lex all the time, so I wasn't even tuning in to most of Doug's monologue at the table. And maybe I just had to take Marisol's advice to slide down his pole and scratch an itch, but this guy was impossible to deal with. He didn't even get my motor's running, if you get my drift.