Drizzle drizzle drizzle…
Look at those cinnabons frizzle!
My lover’s nowhere in sight
And that’s baking me into a tizzle.
I love napkins. They are handy. Always available to keep me company. Keep my thoughts company. I hope he likes napkins, like I do. Small, irrelevant handy things. I always keep a packet in my tote.
The café’s bell jingles with vigour each time wet boots enter it and sighs when the dry boots depart. I wonder how I would feel about taking the bell’s place. Constantly hit on the head to announce an arrival, a departure. They would probably fire me. The hot-headed bell.
My lover’s not helping my temper. He’s fashionably late. A minute more and he will remain fashionably single. The bell tinkles again. I don’t care to look up this time. The napkin has my attention. Its corners once crisp, have been crumpled by my fingers in a desperate attempt to seek comfort. I wish people were more like napkins.
Suddenly my attention is demanded by a young college guy. He’s wildly gesturing. What’s he trying to say? He needs to calm down. I can’t make out a single word coming out of his shapely mouth.
Still in a daze, I heard some words of what this young gentleman was so brashly trying to convey.
“Your date……motorcycle……. outside.”
Leisurely refilling my tote of its contents, I beelined my way out of the overcrowded café. I had made up my mind about leaving. The bell dinged as I rashly opened the door. It was still drizzling. That weird kind, where you can still see the sun through the crying clouds.
I wanted nothing further from this blind date, but then I saw the guy. It was the same guy whose picture Janine had so excitedly sent me.
Handsome, middle aged, a set of shiny teeth and what’s more is that he was stuck under his Kawasaki motorcycle. He was made for me. Stifling a laugh, I held my hands behind my back like the good student I am and made my way to observe the scene.
This bike was going to be the end of me. First, it was my boss. Now, it’s my bike.
‘Do you want me to die a single man!?’
This two hundred- and fifty-kilogram Kawasaki was turning out to be my worst buy yet.
“Need any help?”
I looked up to find a blonde girl who was desperately trying to keep a straight face at my current state of affairs.
Ditching all my pride I grunted.
“I could sure use some.”
She then amassed a couple of teenage boys around the café who helped get the bike off me.
I thanked her and the acne faced midgets.
I was about to sprint into the café to find the woman who was surely pretty mad at me by now, when the same blonde grabbed onto my sleeve.
That’s when it hit me. She’s my blind date. Matt had sent me her picture.
“I think she left.” She said piteously.
I looked at her, a little confused.
She didn’t yield.
Fine. Two could play this game.
“Wow! Now women leave me without even having met me.”
“Oh. Blind date?” She asked.
I nodded my confirmation.
“So, you had never seen her?”
“Nope.” I lied through my teeth.
“Say, why don’t you and I have a cup of coffee. You can repay my kindness. Or is it me who’s being kind yet again, to have coffee with a desolate heart?”
I laughed. She was so dramatic.
“This place has soured my mood, but what do you say of being whisked away from the city hustle?”
“Why not?” she said and carefully climbed behind me, lest I fall again.
I clutched onto his broad shoulders as he carried out the action of ‘whisking me away.’
He’s a rash driver, speeds more than necessary, likes to live on the edge, maybe. Then again, what’s the use of buying a heavy bike if you don’t live for the thrill.
He’s very gullible though, and I couldn’t help but smile at how quickly he had believed me.
I like the way he smiles. That nervous smile where he’s not so sure of himself. Overconfident people don’t appeal to me.
We reached our destination. It was a hill overlooking the city. Darkness had stolen over the evening sky and the city lights now glimmered at least thirty feet below us.
“What’s your name?” I asked, keeping up the farce.
“Jackson.” He replied, although I already knew that.
“And you m’lady?” he bowed.
“You sure are a charmer.” I giggled.
“I am Anne. Anne Wilkins.”
He couldn’t know my name, or he would know I was his blind date, and that seemed like something fun to hide.
She kept up with the act.
I don’t mind.
I quite enjoy the idea of actually getting to know her without the obligation to ‘like’ her just because it’s a blind date.
“So, Anne. Tell me something interesting about yourself.”
“I like to write, but I ain’t no good.” She said, faking an accent.
She had a perpetual smile on her face and I knew the reason for it. She had a secret. Well, so did I.
Just when I was admiring her white set of teeth shining in mischief, my phone started ringing.
It was Matt.
I picked up the call.
“Hey bud! How’s the blind date going!?”
He sounded so excited.
“I was late, Matt. She already left by the time I arrived.”
I was loud enough for her to hear and piteous enough to be believable.
“Sorry to hear that man.” Matt said, and I knew he was frowning even though I couldn’t see him. Little did he know about the game we were playing.
Audrey stifled her giggles behind me.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked.
She was dying to tell me. I could see that.
“Actually, I am Audrey. Your blind date.” She said in between eruptions of laughter.
God, her laughter was contagious.
“I knew that.” I was laughing as well.
Her laughter ceased and forehead creased.
"What? How?" she asked, a puzzled look adorning her features.
“Yes.” I replied.
“And I have also been told that you are quite fond of napkins.”