Romantic Encounters

The sinking stomach before a blind date always seemed to be overstated. A Cosmo article Rebecca had read years earlier spoke words of reassurance to her as she remembered the astonishing fact; men like red. Trembling hands cleaned the fear of rejection from the sides of cherry red lips. Lips that would later frown as she realized her blind date was incredibly beautiful and wanted to be anywhere else. After a standard greeting his dark eyes danced around the room. She figured a prettier woman had caught the beady eyes’ attention. Perhaps the stunning and barefaced waitress at the bar had noticed his strong stature. Despite the looming thought that the lipstick was too much, Rebecca still spoke to the half present man. Every few minutes, while picking at her fingernails, she’d make a leading comment that hung for a moment. He’d be struck with the realization that he had to converse with her and mutter a one word response. The “yeah” would echo in her mind until she could muster the courage to say the next thing. 

Nick recognized the selfishness of his mission but knowing was always how he gained control, at least in his mind. As soon as he laid eyes on the waiter he specially requested, the deepest parts of his psyche would assess what he had that Nick lacked. The only problem was he was nowhere in sight, but she was. Looking at her felt like staring into a bottomless pit. At the bar stood a black hole. His focus tunneled when he saw him in the back until she spoke. Sultry red lips curled to utter a few clever words. “I am fully prepared to make my own food.” She’d do this every few minutes and Nick would be struck with the realization that he should be talking to her. He’d notice her piercing eyes, stretched thin when she’d say her little jokes and her calm demeanor. He imagined her head racing. After every short reply her smile would get a little tighter and her jokes a little less clever. The waiter finally approached and Nick told himself the answer was all he was needed. 

The waiter was gorgeous. He seemed passionate as he explained the specials and their specific palettes. Both paid close attention to his suggestions and Rebecca had decided to take the risk with the lobster dinner for two. Sharing a meal has to be one of the most deeply intimate experiences. It was her final attempt at a decent date. “I like lobster,” Rebecca said after much thought. Nick didn’t take his eyes off the waiter. “Do you recommend the lobster?” She picked up on a condescending tone that confused her and the waiter. 

“I’m not a seafood guy,” He admitted with a smile. Better hair and possibly his excitable nature. Nick’s excitability came and went; it’s not something everyone can afford all of the time. He saw it more as a difference than a setback but a difference that mattered. “Understood.” The reply was quiet. Frankly, Nick wasn’t there. He placed the burden of his unhappiness unto this unknowing excitable guy and now all he was met with was shame. He didn’t know him personally, until now he was akin to a mythical creature that lived in his head: the guy she cheated on you with. So naturally, he was a projection of his own insecurities. He had stolen his glittering self image and replaced it with an empty frame. The man who helps squander an eight year relationship becomes the embodiment of everything the person they left behind is not. “I like lobster too.” The words had a shrug. Immediately understanding the exchange, the mythical creature left. 

For some reason, Rebecca could smell his shame. It stuck like cigarette smoke on cloth seats and mixed well with her desperation. Her hiatus from dating laughed at her from a distance. She’d never met Nick or been to this restaurant but every relationship she’d known felt like the ugly silence at that table. All of the “I love you’s” she heard sounded like shifting eyes in a restaurant full of pretty girls. The soft voice in the dark of the night always seemed to shatter the dates during the day. Her imagination shielded her from her fears. As she daydreamed about the tall dark and handsome man to sweep her off her feet in the midst of her fine dining, she defined herself. His manner unraveled her. It tore holes in the carefully woven narrative she had written for herself. She learned both that her favorite dress wasn’t good armor and that he was the darkness. Every feeling she lacked in her past relationships were personified right across from her. Rebecca was staring into the eyes of her own limitations. Men had come and gone with voices that were exactly like silence and she lived in the cycle of ordering lobster for two. 

When the lobster came it was a vivid look into the vacantness of the date. Any sort of meaningless dialogue or appetite lodged in his throat. He felt himself choking on the consequences of his lies. Her breathtaking face was colored grey because of him. Both stared mindlessly at the delicious lobster dinner. Neither felt compelled to speak because settling into the air along with the steam of the still hot meal was reality. Nick couldn’t fathom what she thought but he knew what she felt. He knew they shared that deep dark void inside of his stomach at that moment. For the first time that night, He looked at her. They saw each other and transmitted their pain. Nick said he was sorry with his eyes and Rebecca told him it was okay with hers. A superficial sense of peace was achieved. “The waiter was nice.”

“Yeah.” Rebecca had equally so much to say and nothing at all. “That waitress at the bar is pretty.” 

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah.” 

That was the first “yeah” that didn’t sting Rebecca. She was relieved to admit that she felt slightly inconvenienced now. She wondered how things could have played out but she let the thought pass. She placed down her fork, officially giving up on attempting to eat the lobster. Quickly she grabbed her wallet and pulled out a couple of bills. A peace offering placed down on the table right next to the fork. “I’m going to go,” She said. Nick didn’t respond, instead he just stared.