The Good Guy

“So, what did you think?” he asked tentatively, hoping that she’d liked the movie as much as he had.

“Kind of bleh, don’t you think?”

“Oh yeah, kind of bleh.”

He drummed with his fingers on the armrest, waiting for the lights to come back on. The silence lingered.

“Uh, so, do you want to go for some drinks?” he ventured.

“Mm, I really do have to get up early tomorrow, you know.”

“Oh, right.”

“Maybe some other time?”

“Yeah, oh yeah, definitely some other time.”

The lights still hadn’t come on yet, rendering the theater dark as night. She moved in her seat. He moved too, uneasily.

“So, how about those Rams, huh? Taking the Super Bowl. I wouldn’t have thought, given their situation in the off-season. A new quarterba-”

“Listen, Mike.” she interrupted. “You’re really nice, and I’ve had a fun time out tonight. And I know I just said that we should grab drinks sometime.”

He knew where this was going.

“But, honestly, I don’t feel like we’re clicking, you know?”

He felt a pit in his stomach and tried to swallow discreetly to not draw attention to his discomfort. “Oh, yeah, totally. I agree. Totally. Yeah.”

There was that silence again. He cleared his throat. They sat in deep silence for a short while, him considering her words in his mind, wondering how she didn’t realize how good of a guy he was. “I know what type she usually dates. I’ve seen her ex,” he thought to himself, “and let’s just say there’s a good reason he’s an ex.”

“Why is it still so dark in here?” she wondered loudly, laughing halfheartedly. He tried to snap back to his cheery carefree self.

“Maybe it’s got one of those post-movie scenes? Like in the Marvel movies.”

He wondered quickly if he should try and strike up a conversation about Doctor Strange.

“Oh, I haven’t seen those yet.”

On second thought.

He got to his feet in the darkness, looking around for his jacket. He took out his phone and used it to light his way. “Let me try and talk to the guy at the door; maybe he can turn on the lights.”

He tripped slightly over her legs, awkwardly excusing himself as he shuffled down the stairs and walked to the exit door. Until then, he hadn’t realized that they were all alone in the theater. The exit was locked. He walked over to the entry door instead. Just as he approached it, it opened slightly, and one of those ushers in their small vests peered his head inside.

“Sorry, we seem to be having a minor technical issue. Please remain seated and in this room until further notice.”

“What?” was all he got out before the door slammed. He tried rattling the door, but it didn’t budge. “Hey!” he shouted out. Nothing happened. He returned up the stairs, back to Brittny.

“What did he say?”

“Eh, something about a technical issue and that we should be out soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The awkwardness of the silence dug into his stomach. And now he was stuck here until further notice. She was acting like this date had been a trainwreck. But it hadn’t been. They had had ice cream, some nice dinner, and seen the top box-office hit. And, he had paid for it all too. And left a nice tip for the waitress even. Actually, she had just kind of used him. She had abused his kindness and good heart for a free trip to the movies and some food. He was a good guy.

“Listen, I have to say something.” he started. Her silence egged him on. “I honestly thought this date was going well. I was so nice to you. I listened to you talk about those classes you’re taking at uni. I listened to that story about your neighbor’s dog. I oohed over the pictures of your sister’s baby. I didn’t even interrupt when you were complaining about your therapist. I paid for everything, and I didn’t ask or mention it. I just did it. And you didn’t even thank me for it! I gave you the perfect date, I was the perfect gentleman, and now you’re just leaving me here. And, I-”

“Hold up now, you jerk.” she spat back at him out of the dark. “I don’t owe you anything. I’ve been charming and appreciative. I’m not obligated to go out on another date with you. I’m not obligated to like you. I’m not obligated to go home with you because you paid for dinner. I have every right to deny you if I don’t think it’s working out. And frankly, with the way you’re behaving, you’re not the good guy you think you are. You’re just an entitled loser, and there’s an excellent reason why you’re perpetually single. You treat women terribly and expect them to worship you for it. Get a grip. Oh, and you’re boring.”

“I’m not boring!” He was shouting now. “I’ll have you know that I graduated with honors and top grades! I’m in Mensa! I know a lot of stuff that you could only hope to one day understand. Quantum physics, ever heard of it? Didn’t think so. I've got thousands of dollars invested in Bitcoin! I’ll be a millionaire one day, and you’ll still be sitting around at Starbucks or that boba tea place, living month to month on your measly paycheck.”

The lights came on. She was crying silently in her seat. He was taken aback. He’d never meant for her to cry. He reached out his hand and caressed her arm. She moved closer to him, and the tears subsided slightly.

“Marie, why are you crying? I thought you told me to play a good guy?”

“Pete, you absolute moron. That’s not the type of guy I meant when I said you should be a good guy! I meant an actual good guy. You were supposed to sweep me off my feet!”

“Oh. Oh no. Honey, I’m sorry..”

She got up from her seat, took her purse, and stormed down the stairs. He sighed deeply, took out his phone and texted James. “Abort.”

Within a few short seconds he heard the entry door open, followed quickly by a hard slam.