"More wine?" the waitress says.
I shake my head no.
Brad makes a taunting 'awe c'mon' face -- but I'm feeling guilty about leaving Deandra on her own.
"I can't," I say with an apologetic look. He shrugs his shoulders and calls for the bill. We've had a nice time. This place is really...fancy-ish, except people are dressed pretty casually in it so I don't feel uncomfortable.
Actually, maybe fancy isn't the right word. It's urban. Chic. Contemporary. In any case, the food was delicious, but there's a nagging in my stomach that wants me to get back to Deandra so I know she is ok.
Brad smiles. I'm not really able to get caught up in it because I'm imagining worst case scenarios back at home base.
I think he gets it.
"I'm sorry..." I whine, "It's just, she's my only friend out here and...I worry."
"No, it's fine." he says.
I can't tell if it actually is fine, but if he's going to take it personally then maybe this is a red flag that Brad and his fragile ego aren't going to cut it.
"I'll feel better once he's apprehended," I say.
I try to coax him back into a conversation, but the air has gone a bit stale. I don't understand why he isn't understanding that I can't just forget about the fact that my only friend out here is in pending danger, and how that just might be a buzz-kill for my libido; but apparently he is taking this as a personal hit.
So I stop trying.
After a long and silent car ride home, I hop out of the car and head towards the rod iron gate. I can't even be bothered to say polite pleasantries...but I guess he feels awkward as I start to walk away so he yells out the window,
"I had a nice time,"
Really? You had a nice time? Are you fucking kidding me?
"Me too," I say through a fake grin and quickly walk away. He yells out that he'll call me, but I've already blank-slated any future plans of him and I walking down the aisle from my mind.
Sorry Brad. You're self-absorbed, fragile, and you suck. So do your fucking job so I can rest at night knowing that my friend is safe...
"Well, ain't that the prettiest ball o' sunshine walking straight towards me!" says Charlie. His eyes smile, but he can't. Deandra has him and her in some sort of blue face mask.
I plunk down beside them.
"You're the only two people on earth who can drink margaritas while encaked in a face mask," I say as I reach for the pitcher.
They have a glass for me waiting on the table.
I pour.
"How was your date!" Deandra squeals with glee only slightly more elevated than the excitement level usually reserved for my mother.
I look at her, roll my eyes and take a gulp.
"He has a small penis," I say.
Charlie laughs, his face mask cracks and Deandra scowls at him.
"Babycakes," says Charlie "ain't nobody be wanting one of those."
They chuckle manaically for a few seconds. Everything is funnier when you're drinking margaritas.
A moment later he tops off Deandra who raises her glass and says as loud as she can given her slightly restricted facial movement; "To large penises!"
"To real men," I correct her.
"To real men with large penises!" chuckles Charlie.
I love these two.
They make everything better. I am definitely using them as characters in something I write in the near future.
