Seriously Bad Date

Olivia stared at the wide wooden door of the restaurant with a mix of excitement and nerves. It opened, and she felt her heart flutter while she waited to see would enter. A couple. Darn.  

She smoothed out her black strapless dress, checking to make sure her bra wasn't showing. It wasn't, but she gave the dress a little a tug anyway, just to make sure it stayed that way. She silently questioned her outfit choice for the third time that night. She rarely wore this particular dress and rarely wore strapless in general, because she always fidgeted when she did. She also always fidgeted when she was nervous, so the combination of the two meant she wasn't likely to sit still all night.

           She surveyed the restaurant. A few couples, several groups - at least one celebrating a birthday, judging by the large gold balloons making out the number '30'. Ah, to be 30 again, Olivia mused. That was... awhile back and things were very different now. For starters, she was waiting for a date that she'd met online, something she swore she'd never do when she was 30, but the dating world was different now than the last time she was single and she had to adapt. 

           "Dammmmmn, Liv, nice dress. Pulling out all the stops for this one, huh?" came a voice from behind her.

           Olivia turned to see her friend Carter. "I just wanted to look nice," she replied, feeling heat rise in her cheeks as she blushed. "This one is special, Carter. I can feel it."

           "You said that about the last two and they turned out to be duds," he replied, rather bluntly.

           "Well," she said, eyes narrowing in rejection of his words, "this one is different. I really took my time before agreeing to meet him. We've been chatting for weeks, really getting to know each other. He's handsome, mature and thoughtful... Serious."

           The door of the restaurant opened and they both looked over in anticipation. Another young woman. She was wearing a strapless top too but Olivia could tell that she wasn't the type of girl that would fidget in it. Self-consciously, she tugged at her own dress again.

           "Guess that's not him?" Carter asked, sarcastically. "What do you want with serious anyway? Serious is boring."

           "Serious could be just what I need. Nice detox from my ex-husband, the clown."

           "Well, we both know anything is better than him," Carter replied, grabbing a breadstick from the basket on the table and munching on it.

           The door opened again and this time a man walked through. Excitedly, Olivia compared him to the photo on her phone. There was a resemblance - green eyes, strong jaw, short beard, short dark brown hair, but this man looked much older, balding at the crown of his head and completely grey at his temples and through most of his facial hair. Compared to the photo, the man at the door could be a much, much, MUCH older brother.

           "Hm," Carter said, eyeing her phone, "what do you think they call the filter he has on that photo? 'Fountain of Youth?'"

           "Shut up, Carter," Olivia said, tossing a breadstick at him. "It might not be him."

           "Oh, it's him... and he's coming over."

           "Olivia?" the man asked, squinting. His expression exaggerated the deep crow's feet around his eyes. He held out his hand to shake hers.

           Ok, clearly older than his photos, but who cares? Olivia thought to herself. She had used one or two photos that were a couple of years old, it wasn't a big deal.

           Olivia stood and shook his hand, noticing she was almost exactly his height. She was 5'7" in the heels she had on... his profile said that he was 5'10".

           She found herself speechless, awkwardly shaking his hand and suddenly wondering what else this man had... misrepresented.  

           "I'm Carter," her friend jumped in, nudging her in the shoulder as he did. Fortunately it snapped Olivia out of her haze and she proceeded with introductions.

           "Yes, Robert, this is my friend, Carter. He's the sous-chef here. Carter, this is Robert, my date."

           The two men shook hands as Olivia sat back down.

           "Serious handshake for a serious guy," Carter said, shooting Olivia a look. Robert was oblivious. Olivia was not.

           "Thanks for keeping me company while I waited, Carter. I'm sure there's a carrot that needs chopping in the kitchen?" She smiled, but the subtle bite in her tone ensured that Carter got the message.

           "Yep," he said "lots to chop, lots to do. I'll make sure your meals are extra special tonight." Olivia watched as Carter turned back towards the kitchen and could tell he was making a concentrated effort not to laugh.

           "So," she said, turning back to her date. She was determined not to let initial appearances spoil her excitement. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person."

           "And you. I must say, I was relieved to see that you look just like your photos and even more stunning in person."

           Olivia smiled, wondering if Robert was being ironic. "Thanks for the compliment. I have to admit, you look a little different than yours, especially the main one with your dog in it. She's so cute. How old did you say she is now?" Real subtle, she thought. 

           "Adorable, isn't she? That was the first day I brought her home. She just turned 12!"

           12?? With that, Olivia knew that he probably exaggerated about his age too, but didn't bother asking.

           The waiter came over and they ordered drinks - her, a dry gin martini with two olives, and him, a scotch neat. A mature drink for a mature man, she thought, looking on the bright side. The last guy she had met there for dinner ordered a vodka cranberry. Enough said.

           By the time their drinks had arrived they had talked about the weather, the traffic getting to the restaurant - it was surprisingly light - and an op-ed they had both read in the "New Yorker" about what would happen if players had control over their sports leagues.

           The conversation stopped and they sat in silence for a moment. Olivia smoothed her dress and took a big sip of her martini. What is going on? she wondered. They'd had wonderful text exchanges, back-and-forth, like rapid-fire, talking about all sorts of topics. Granted, some of them weren't the most interesting to her but she thought he seemed so scholarly and found it interesting to engage. Perhaps he was just nervous, Olivia supposed, like she was.

           The server came back over to take their order and provided a much-needed break from the silence. Olivia was starving - another tell-tale sign that she was nervous - and ordered the Grilled Peach Salad with Burrata and Roasted Salmon with Pesto. Robert wasn't sure what to order so Olivia suggested the Tuna Poke Bowl and Roasted Cauliflower with Puffed Wild Rice. They were some of Carter's favourites so she figured they must be good. They handed their menus back to their server and Olivia decided to take a different approach to lighten things up: humour.

           "So," she smiled "are you a big cheese guy? I could never date a man who didn't like cheese as much as I do," she said sarcastically.

           "I'm lactose intolerant," he replied sternly, his words landing on the table like a cement-filled balloon.

Thud.

           "Well, that's okay, I was just kidding. I guess that just means I get to eat ALL the cheese myself," she said jokingly again.

           "Cheese, and dairy products in general, are very high in saturated fats and salt. You really shouldn't eat too much of them."

     Thud.

           "I was kidding again," Olivia said, recognizing one of the many pitfalls of online dating - no sarcasm. She called out her 'fluency in sarcasm' on her profile but avoided it when texting. She knew it was difficult to interpret tone and didn't want to accidentally offend anyone. Unfortunately, that meant (on more than one occasion) that when she did speak with her typical humour, the person on the receiving end just didn't get it.

           Olivia's phone chimed in her purse and she realized she'd forgotten to turn it to silent.

           "I'm so sorry, let me just turn that off," she said to Robert, fishing into her bag and taking a quick glance at the screen. It was a message from Carter: How's serious Robert? Looks pretty serious from here, followed by a sleeping emoji and several laughing ones. Olivia shut her phone off, slipped it back into her purse and subtly checked behind her, ready to shoot daggers at Carter. He wasn't there and must have already slipped back into the kitchen.

           Olivia turned back to Robert, wondering how to fill this latest lull in their conversation. She was relieved when Robert asked her a question about her favourite place to travel. When they had first started texting, they avoided that question. She was trying to go beyond the usual small-talk subjects and he didn't bring it up either, which she thought was a great sign at the time.           

           She told him of her trip to Italy - the various cities she had visited, the amazing food she ate. She recalled a memory of sitting at a café on a cobblestone street in Rome, sipping a foamy latté and thinking how at home she felt, despite never having been there before.

           "It was enchanting," Olivia said. "I'd love to go back.

           "I read about Italy once," Robert said in reply. "It's a place with quite a rich history."

           "It is. You've never been?" Olivia asked.

           "No, I don't travel."

  Thud.

           Olivia understood now. He sounded scholarly because he was scholarly. He liked to read - she just wasn't sure if he experienced anything that he read about.  

           She tugged at her dress, her discomfort reaching a boiling point and wondered how she could wrap up this meal sooner. Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom and text Carter? But then what could he do? And what was taking their food so long, anyway? She realized that they probably hadn't been talking for all that long, but it felt like a lifetime. Fortunately, as if someone read her mind, the server came over with their appetizers.   

           "Thank goodness," Olivia said, with a little too much enthusiasm. Then, realizing how she sounded, added "I'm starving." Smooth, she thought.

           Robert took a bite of his salad, then proceeded to talk with his mouth full. "Did you know that there are over 3000 varieties of pears worldwide? And although they mature on the tree, they actually ripen best off the tree." He punctuated the last part of his sentence with a point of his finger, as if that made it more exciting.

           "Interesting," Olivia replied, just to be polite. She stuffed a huge bite of pear and burrata in her mouth, indulging in the sweet and creamy combination. Must be all the saturated fat, she thought, stifling the urge to roll her eyes. She had really tried to give this man a chance, but nothing - not his appearance or his personality or their chemistry - was at all what it had seemed. She was so disappointed but decided to make the best of the meal and would politely let him know there would be no second date when it was over.

           Relieved she had a plan, she looked up from her salad to keep the conversation going but something was off. Robert was uncomfortably shifting in his chair and clearing his throat quite a bit.

           "Is everything ok?" she asked, genuinely concerned. "Do you need some more water?" She motioned to their server, who came over with a pitcher and topped up his glass.

           "I think there's something spicy in my salad," he said, clearing his throat again and taking a big gulp of water. A bead of sweat had emerged on his forehead and was making its way down to his brow.

           "Yes, sir, there's a little bit of fresh chili pepper. The chef finds it complements the sweetness in the glaze on the tuna," the server chimed in.

           "Do you not like spicy foods?" Olivia asked.

           "No," he said through coughs, "my throat burns and my eyes water, it's terrible."

           "Are you allergic? Do you need medical attention?" she said with alarm.

           Robert stood up in a fury, almost knocking his chair over, drawing the attention of the nearby tables. Shaking his head, he fumbled with his pockets until he produced a packet of pills, downed one and chased it with some water. A moment later he appeared to be feeling better.

           "This is just perfect," he said angrily. "Olivia, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to say goodnight. If I'm honest, this evening didn't turn out at all as I had hoped it would. You're like a different person than the one I was texting. And this debacle with the food just puts it over the limit. Goodbye, Olivia. I'm afraid there won't be a second date."

           Olivia wanted to both laugh and scream. She was a different person? At least she didn't completely misrepresent herself on her profile! How dare he! She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind.

           "That's very unfortunate," she said calmly instead. "And I respect your opinion."

           She wanted the date to end and now it had - why add insult to (his) injury?

           Robert left in a huff and Olivia apologized to the server, who cleared his plate, seemingly erasing the evidence of the disturbance. She asked that the entrées be cancelled and for the bill so she could get out of there and put this horrible dinner behind her. While she waited, she took a nice long sip of her martini, deciding that perhaps online dating wasn't for her.

           A moment later, Carter appeared with both entrées, set them down and sat in the now unoccupied seat across from Olivia.

           "So," he said, "that was a seriously bad date. And your food was already ready," he added with a shrug.

           "Funny," Olivia said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, I just want to get out of here. I'm not even hungry anymore." She stood to look for the server so she could hurry the bill.

           "Sit down," Carter ordered. "I'm done for the night and this is my favourite dish." He grabbed a fork and started digging in. "Besides," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "there's no way that dress is going to waste."

           Olivia smiled. And sat back down for dinner.    

THE END