The Bad Date

"Is it just me? Or is it really hot in here?"

Nancy peered down at her vintage Pink Flamingo Swatch. If the watch is vintage, so is she, receiving the watch as a tenth birthday gift.

She wore a fitted, low cut blue top and pair of smart dove gray trousers. Despite her choice in watches, she looked lovely. Sexy, but not slutty. Her hair set in shoulder-length, mousy brown curls.

Emitting a low chuckle, Nancy said, "Well. Would you look at the time? I didn't realize it was so late."

"It's only 9 o'clock", whispered Bill.

"Yes. But I have a big presentation at work tomorrow and I forgot all about Phil," replied Nancy, rising from her seat.

"Phil?" Bill stood, almost knocking over his wineglass. "Who's Phil?"

"My ten year old bulldog. I'm sorry. I thought I mentioned him." Nancy grabs her coat from the back of the richly-appointed chair and backs away from the table.

"Well. It was very nice to meet you", mumbled Bill, reaching out for a handshake.

"You too", said Nancy, ignoring the outreached hand.

She turned to exit the restaurant with a quickness to her step that didn't go unnoticed by the maître d'.

"Will that be all, sir?" he asked.

“I guess so", admitted Bill, feeling dejected.

Exiting the restaurant, Nancy slipped into a faded gray down coat, letting out an audible sigh. She opened her car door, slid into the driver's seat. She rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment, the cool plastic felt good on her forehead. Starting the car, Nancy let out an extended groan that mimicked the roar of the engine. Feeling a little better, Nancy raced home.

"You have to hear this!", Nancy screams into the cellphone. The gray coat hanging off one arm. On the opposite side, a cell phone wedged between her cheek and shoulder.

A few blocks away, Nancy's best friend Cheryl, cell phone in hand, listened. Her husband Mike reclining on the couch next to her, flipped through a men's magazine.

"Was it that bad, Nance?", asked Cheryl.

Nancy entered a sparsely decorated living room. The furniture outdated and shabby. She dropped her coat into an empty armchair and flopped onto a threadbare couch. An old brindle and white English bulldog, plodded into the room. He nudged Nancy's leg with his nose. She reached down and with her free hand gently lifted the dog and placed him next to her on the couch.

"Oh. It was bad!"

"Are we talking 'Crackhead Larry' bad? Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

"Not that bad. I stand corrected”, admitted Nancy.

"So, start at the beginning", said Cheryl. "And don't leave out any juicy details."

Overhearing this, Mike dropped his magazine on the coffee table. Feigning a yawn, he mimed he was going to bed and swiftly left the room.

Careful not to disturb Phil, Nancy sank deeper into the couch cushion, curling her long legs behind her.

"Buckle up and keep in mind, you asked," laughed Nancy. “So, his name was Bill. Thirty. Five foot eleven. Short brown hair.”

“So far so good”, chuckles Cheryl.

“The problem was not his looks, but his personality. Or should I say personalities”, corrected Nancy. “He had multiple.”

Having reclined on her couch, Cheryl sat upright.

“Multiple?” she exclaimed.

"Yes. It was so weird. It started shortly after I got to the restaurant."

Nancy sat alone in her car, mindlessly twirling her hair as a tall dark haired man strolled by. As she opened the door, Nancy is almost ejected from the car.

“Bill?”, she called out.

The man paused with his back to Nancy.  “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to meet someone here and I thought you might be him.”

“You’re Nancy?”, asked Bill. “Nice to meet you.”

“So you are Bill! Thank god”, Nancy gushed.

“As nice as this parking lot is, I bet inside the restaurant is quite a bit nicer. Shall we?” directed Bill as he ushered Nancy inside.

“So what do you do for a living?” inquired Nancy as they sat.

“I work for a law firm in town” replied Bill, taking a sip from his water glass.

“A lawyer? For some reason I thought you were a teacher. I must be mistaken.”

“No, you’re correct. I’m am a teacher. And a pilot.”

“Wow. How do you find time to date?” inquired Nancy, as she peered over the top of her menu.

“We manage”, Bill smiled. “Now, what do we feel like tonight?  The lobster or the steak?”

“I’m actually a vegetarian”, replied Nancy.

“I wasn’t talking to you!”, growled Bill.

Nancy recoiled in her seat. This was unlike any date she had ever been on and it had just started.

At that moment, the maître d’ sauntered over to the table. “Are we ready to order?”

Glancing at the menu, Nancy said “I’ll have the spinach quiche.”

“Very good.” The maître d’ turned to Bill. “And for you, sir?”

Bill glanced from Nancy to the maître d’ with an expression that suggested he was seeing both for the first time.

“Um. We’ll have the filet mignon. Or maybe the salmon. You know what? We can’t decide. Surprise us”, laughed Bill.

“So. Um. Bill. Tell me about your family.” asked Nancy, as the maître d’ stepped away from the table.

“Sure. I’m the oldest of six children. I have three brothers and two sisters. There’s Jim, Bob, Michael, Jessica and little Suzy” explained Bill.

“Wow. That’s a big family”, exclaimed Nancy. “I only have…”

“I am NOT little!”, yelled Bill, in a perfect imitation of a preteen girl. “I am 9 and ¾!”

“Oh god”, murmured Nancy under her breath.

“Do you want to hear a joke?”, asked Bill, who clearly thought he was Suzy. “What did one birthday candle say to the other? Is it just me or is it really hot in here?”

Cheryl, still sitting on the couch with the phone pressed to her ear asked, “Then what did you do?”

“What do you mean? This guy was psycho! I made an excuse and got the hell out of there!” exclaimed Nancy.

“Oh hun. I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I guess so”, sighed Nancy. “I think I’m going to check on Phil, then head to bed and try to forget this whole thing.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Cheryl”, sighed Nancy, hanging up the phone. She stood up from the couch and glanced down at the dog sitting beside her. “Come on, Kirby”.

Kirby jumped off the couch and followed Nancy out of the living room. They both made their way down a darkened hallway and into a small bedroom. The room was bare. Devoid of furniture. Nothing hung on the walls. There was a plastic tarp laid out on the floor. Nancy entered the room, closing the door behind her. Hung on a nail driven into the back of the door was a yellow raincoat. Nancy slipped into the coat as she approached the closet door. She pulled a small straight razor from her coat pocket, opening it to reveal a rusty but sharp blade. She lifted the hood over her head as she threw open the closet door. Inside, suspended from the closet bar, was a naked man. His mouth covered with a dirty piece of duct tape. Small cuts coated his body in a mixture of fresh and congealed blood.

“Hi Phil”, Nancy cackles. The man, upon seeing Nancy, started to struggle, but it was pointless.