The Watch

I’ve always enjoyed being early, however with how much time has passed I’m questioning whether I had the time right to begin with. I glance at my grandmother’s slim, gold and silver watch. I’m sure I’m right, he’s late. 

Sitting at the small, round, wood table toward the back of what is a rather quaint restaurant, Sam appeared to others as one usually does when one is stood up and they hold on a little too long. She kept crossing and recrossing her legs switching whichever leg was to sit on top of the other. The hem of her dress being ruthlessly tugged back into position each time. Sam even stood a few times, convinced that leaving in a huff was warranted after weeks of wonderful phone calls with a charming man she had yet to meet in person. Alas, she planted herself, with an inner monologue of, “I can’t wait to tear him a new one and tell him just how long I waited.” No matter how embarrassing it was for her. 

She had told the hostess what the man would be wearing based on his description, and to send him her way when he arrived. The hostess seemed genuinely happy for Sam, and gave her a  confident and enthusiastic assurance that their evening would be lovely. All signs pointed to this being the first of many dates with her mystery man, if only he would show up.

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I try and be early to everything, let alone a date I’ve been excited slash terrified for this past week. I checked my father’s old watch, and am starting to wonder if she is just going to be fashionably late, or lost track of time entirely, because she is definitely not here. 

The bar was a nice size with ample seating. A quirky and energetic young woman stood behind the counter eyeing him with what could only be described as pity. 

“Hot date?” She asked with a little too much vigor, clearly she knew. 

“Supposed to be.” I said, clearly annoyed that my face shows a man who was indeed supposed to be having a hot date. “She’ll be here soon, we’ve already talked quite a bit before tonight.”

“Of course she’ll be here soon! You’re a catch, can I refill your drink?” 

“I’ll wait till she gets here.” I don’t think that my face could say, please leave me alone, anymore that one face could. 

Gary liked to start his dates at the bar, just in case things didn’t go very well he could end things short and not get stuck having a whole meal. He couldn’t really see the entrance from where he was seated, but had told the host his date’s name and what she would be wearing. It was hard to express without coming across as a little creepy. The host couldn’t help but give him a reassuring nod and a short, “It’ll be great, and I’ll send her your way when I see her.” 

————-

Sam was starting to wonder if it was her, did she say something wrong the last time they talked? He seemed interested in her. He seemed kind and romantic, someone who would be early, not late. Having ordered food, because she was starving, and if she was going to get stood up at a restaurant you better believe she earned consolation dessert too. 

The waiter was kind, checked in on Sam often and shared how he too had been stood up last week. It was a discreet yet sincere form of empathy that she usually didn’t get from people. Normally, there was a half hearted, “Oh I’m so sorry!” This was quickly followed by a change in subject and no follow up later to how she was truly feeling. Now that she thought about it, the waiter was quite handsome. 

She wondered what Gary was doing instead of being on the date she was so excited for. Was he with someone else, asleep, dead? The plausible reasons for not showing up seemed ridiculous. She decided that his reasons couldn’t be cruel, and that she should just enjoy the restaurant and plan what she would say to him on the inevitable phone call tomorrow. However, while writing her mental rant, the waiter reaches your table, apron free, with two slices of cheesecake. He sits down, and smiles at you with a glint in his eye, that says, “Can I be your mystery man?”

————-

Three empty glasses sit in front of Gary. Feeling completely frazzled and glad he took a cab, he ordered some food at the bar, now seeing the dining room as unnecessary. The bubbly bartender had finished her shift and he was glad for that. A grizzled man took her place and was far better at reading his expressions. Gary was at a loss, he really admired the connection he thought he had with Sam and wondered what went wrong. He wanted to believe that it was a fluke, but he’d been stood up before and bitterness started to seep in. Taking a peek at his father’s watch, he didn’t realize how late it was and asked if the bartender could call a cab. 

————-

An empty plate in front of Sam, she put down her fork with a laugh to what her unexpected date said. She all of a sudden didn’t want the night to end, and with a plan to call Gary tomorrow with a short, “Sorry this isn’t going to work out” cliché, Sam glanced at her grandmother’s watch. 

“You know it’s not that late, want to get out of here and go for a walk?”

A smile from across the table answers your question. The two of you grab your belongings and stand to head for the door. 

————-

At the front door, Sam sees a man talking to a host that used to be a hostess. He’s wearing a watch that perfectly fits the description Gary gave you of his father’s watch. Watches being an odd fascination to have in common. Sam stands there for a moment, a little frozen to this odd predicament. 

Gary stood talking to the host, mentioning that his date never showed. The host apologized and let him know that his cab was outside. As he turned to the door, he sees a woman walking to the door with a man. She’s wearing a watch that looks a lot like the watch Sam had described. Watches, as you learned, was something that you both loved. Gary stood there for a moment and couldn’t help but blurt out, thanks to the couple drinks he had, “Sam?”

“Yeah?” She responds with slight apprehension because she secretly wants to see where the night will go with the waiter she hit it off with. After all she had never gone on the date with Gary, and they had only talked for a couple weeks. 

“Hi, I think we were supposed to go on a date tonight, but didn’t realize we were both here. I definitely thought you stood me up.”

Sam looked at her surprise date, not Gary, who responded with a smile. It was clear he understood that there was a misunderstanding and wasn’t going to hold it against her if she left. “Sorry I think you’re mistaken, this is my date.” She grabbed the waiters hand and led him outside the restaurant. 

Gary stood there stunned, looked at the host who was staring wide eyed at the floor. “So you said my cab is here?”