The prompt for today is: Write about the three things he could never tell her.
I had think about this one for a little bit and I kept coming back to the same idea which is a story I heard on the radio. We have this cool little thing every Thursday on our local radio station called, “Second Chance Date.” One person contacts the radio station and asks them to intervene on their dating situation. Typically, as the name suggests, something happened after the first day and the person calling in is unsure of how to land a second date. In some cases the other person simply isn’t calling them back or one of the two people on the date really screwed something up and would like a do-over. The radio DJ’s contact both parties and put them on the air to work out what went wrong, why there are unanswered text or non-returned phone calls, and see if they can help set up a second date.
The couple that inspired this story is one of my favorite Second Chance Date stories. Though the hungover guy that had to use the bathroom and puked after curiously smelling his dates shoe and finding a used (but saved) pregnancy test in her closet on the search for toilet paper was pretty epic. He ended up bailing to a local Denny’s without telling her. No second date there.
Here are the participating ladies:
Please enjoy my Promptly Penned short story Devote.
She stared wide eyed at her ice water. With her back straight as a board she kept her hands under the table where they are only noticeable when she reached up to check the time on her cell phone before hiding them under the table again.
“So, Deadpool is not your kind of movie?” Mitch sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, deflating his body to a slouch over the table.
Emily looked up from her water. “No.”
“Okay.” Mitch straightened himself with confidence, determined to right his wrong and win over his date before she ran to the restaurant door. “This is good. You know why this is good? This was my plan. Go, see a movie, then have dinner so we can talk about it. You didn’t like the movie. That’s okay. What didn’t you like? Let’s talk about that.”
“This was your plan?” Her voice had a touch of anger.
Mitch shifted in his chair. “To be honest, I heard it was a good movie. But I didn’t want any spoilers so I was unaware of some of the…er…adult content? But it was my plan to see a movie before dinner. I ran it by your mom and she thought it was a good idea. She said you can be shy sometimes.”
“When you were sitting at church with my mom, did you mention to her your idea included Deadpool? A rated R movie?”
“Well, no. I’m sorry I didn’t think that through.”
Emily relaxed slightly, pushing her long hair over her shoulders and onto her back before picking up her glass of water. “I also question your choice in friends.”
“Yeah, they will probably give me shit for this, too.”
She set down her glass firmly without taking a drink. “Pardon? Did you just swear?”
Mitch felt a ball of anxiety catch in his throat. “Did I? I’m sorry. It must have slipped out. I didn’t realize.”
“This is what is wrong with movies and T.V. I’ll admit, I am utterly shocked at what I saw today but it’s already clear how it is starting to take over. Swearing, nudity, violence. Desensitizing and undermining the value of sensible and conservative life. I thought I’ve seen it all but really? Masturbation jokes? I can’t even believe this movie was made little alone written. If my mother…” Emily placed her hands on the table and rolled her body back in her chair. “If your mother knew you took us to see this trash. Oh Lord!”
Mitch picked up a menu to hide his face and compose himself. He had worn his favorite long sleeve button up shirt which he now regretted as the heat of embarrassment made him sweat, the smell of his deodorant becoming increasingly noticeable. “Let’s focus on getting something to eat and putting this behind us. Can we agree the movie was a mistake and just move on?”
Like wise, Emily picked up her menu and stared down intently. Her breathing, quick and loud, eventually softened to a normal breath after paging through the menu front to back, and back to front, a few times.
“Would you like to share a bottle of wine?” Mitch asked.
“Wine?” Her voice mimicked her earlier tone as if he had just brought up Deadpool’s masturbation scene again.
“No?” Mitch asked quietly.
“No.” She raised her eyebrows and studied Mitch, judging him in silence, before returning to her menu.
A waiter came around to take their order. Mitch decided to do what was best for himself and ordered a hearty pasta entree. If all else fails, he assumed it would make good left overs. Emily looked carefully at the menu before ordering a salad in defeat and looking away from the waiter as she held her menu up for him to take blindly. The middle aged waiter was not new to the service industry and he just nodded kindly. He then placed a small plate of olive oil with seasoning on the table and a basket of bread before rushing off as Mitch wish he could at that moment. Still, as appealing as exiting himself to use the bathroom and bailing to his car sounded, he had actually been on worse dates. Emily was a little rigid, he knew this, her mother had warned him that she could be “a bit difficult” as she put it.
But she had also said, “My daughter needs a good Christian man and I think you two would be a good fit.”
Mitch came to his senses on how he could rectify the date. “Your mom and I met in the church choir. Do you ever come to see her sing? She has a very lovely voice. She said you go to the church closer to where you live. Do you sing too? Are you in the choir there?”
“I’ve been to your church many times. I don’t care for it. I like a little more structure though my mom has introduced me to many members of your congregation.” Mitch offered the basked of bread to Emily but she waved it away before she continued. “There is, no offense, too much singing and lax rules. I understand this pulls in more members but it’s not appropriate to think of member numbers over the word of the Lord. Are you really going to eat that right now?”
Mitch held in his hand a piece of warm bread torn off from the basket on the table, dripping in olive oil.
“You were going to eat without praying?” Emily’s nose wrinkled and she pushed herself away from the table.
Mitch felt his cheeks burning warm when small breeze of relief washes over him, he realized he is out of ideas and patience, freeing him to be himself. He put the bread in his mouth and chewed with his mouth open. “You know. You’re cute and all but, this isn’t working out. I don’t pray before I eat my complimentary bread. It’s delicious though. Want a piece? Quick! Come-Lord-Jesus-be-our-guest-and-let-thy-gifts-to-us-be-blessed-amen!” Mitch tears off another piece and holds it out to her.
“First, you swore.”
“I swear all the fucking time.” Mitch shrugged.
“Second, you drink.”
“Jesus made wine. Hell, if he was born today he would probably brew some kind of artisan IPA.”
“Third, you took me to see a rated R movie.”
“Okay, the last one, might not have been a wise choice for a first date. Should have reserved that as a second or third. But who doesn’t have a little wine now and again or say ‘hell’ instead of ‘heck’ once in a while?”
Emily picked her phone off the table and unhooked her purse from the side of the chair. “I thought you were a devote Christian. I am devoted and my companion should be as well. My body is a temple and full of faith to God. I do not poison or defile myself with poor choices.”
“Whoa.” Mitch leaned over the table while Emily recoils in her chair. “Are you a virgin?”
Her eyes narrowed but she hesitated to answer. “Yes. My body is a temple. All true Christians save themselves until marriage. Aren’t you?”
“Oh, GOD no.” Mitch laughs loudly. “Are you kidding? I’m thirty! Of course not.”
“And you call yourself a Christian!” Emily stood up from her chair and pushed it into the table.
“I go to church, I volunteer, I pray on Sundays. I met girls while helping Habitat for Humanity, we had some drinks, had sex, and watched something rated R online with the wifi I steal from my neighbor.”
“You’re a monster.” Emily turned to leave.
Mitch smiled to himself. “Glad you enjoyed Deadpool!”