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Date Night

The story of Alex and Liz

By A.Published 2 years ago 8 min read
1
Date Night
Photo by SJ . on Unsplash

The bar was loud and crowded and Alex worried that he and Liz wouldn't even get a seat.

He'd parked just around the corner on the street - but he'd had to walk a good bit. Liz had cancelled twice before, so he was worried she wouldn't make it.

A text told him she was on the way and a picture showed him the traffic battle she was still facing.

He walked back to his car. He browsed Twitter and thought about sending a few texts, but then stopped himself.

She parked and told him she was nearby. He got out and walked to the bar and realized she was there already, or, at least, he thought that was her.

She wore a fairly heavy jacket - too heavy for the mild autumn cold the city was facing.

She noticed the neat man walking toward her and his dark glasses framing dark eyes told her it was Alex.

They went in and were seated at the bar. She ordered a gin and tonic; he had an old fashioned.

The conversation was easy and light and fun. Both of them professed to not having dated much recently.

They were together for nearly two hours and she told him she'd like to see him again, but also that she had work in the morning. She left and he stayed and had two more drinks.

This story reveals a bit more about how Liz and Alex arrived at this bar on this night - how two people end up meeting and even enjoying a few hours together.

Liz

24. Liz is 24. She has a decent job and an apartment. She has a life in a growing city that as a child she could not have imagined.

It's date night. She's meeting Alex for the first time at what he says is his favorite bar.

I mean, he's stuck with this same bar as their recommended meeting spot over three dates now.

That is, she cancelled the first two meetings. Long day at work meant their first planned date was off. Something with family ended the second one before it started.

At that point, he'd basically given up. Maybe someone else would actually be interested in meeting him. Thing is, Liz DID want to meet Alex.

Alex is 42. His pics on the dating site made him look younger - maybe early 30s. She fully expected him to look older in person.

What caught her attention, though, was how clever he was -- quick-witted. At least over text.

Plus, he was encouraging and complimentary. He'd been texting her even after two cancelled dates. Hopefully, he'd think she was at least as attractive as she seemed in her pics.

Their conversations hadn't turned sexual. She thought this might be rare, but it had been a bit since she'd texted this long with a guy.

Johnathan walked into the apartment she shared with him and went straight to a shower. No words at all. She knew he'd likely shower up, have a few beers, and fall asleep. She'd told him there was a "work thing" and she'd be in after he went to bed.

Traffic fucking sucked. She wanted to see Alex. If he was even close to as attractive and funny in person as he was online and in text, she'd want to kiss him. Maybe even fuck him, though that was too much for a first date.

The not at all tall man walking toward her was neat and meticulous and seemed pretty intense. She hoped he was funny, but she definitely thought him hot.

Of course, if he didn't ask her back to his place, she couldn't fuck him - that night or any other.

During the date, she spoke of her "roommate" and said they were not getting along. She hoped Alex didn't ask too many questions.

She admired the way his mind worked and his seeming willingness to take care of everything - his "check-ins" to be sure she was having a nice time.

While she wanted to kiss him before she left, he said he'd be staying a bit. She told him she definitely wanted to see him. And soon.

She texted him when she got back to her car - telling him he was very attractive and smelled amazing and she wanted to see him again - alone. The two drinks she'd had were having their intended effect. Would he think her too forward? It didn't matter. She wanted this and Alex seemed a really good guy, not just a potentially good fuck.

She drove home and laughed at the text he sent telling her she was hot as fuck and made him feel young again. He hoped she'd agreed to see him soon, he'd said.

The snores of "her man" greeted her almost before the door was opened. Three beers sat empty on the coffee table and another two were on the nightstand next to Jonathan's large, sleeping body.

She poured a glass of wine, took off her clothes, and cuddled alone under the heavy blanket she kept on the couch.

Alex

It was date night - with Liz. This was the third time they'd agreed to meet and Alex had told himself this was it. He wouldn't try again. If she wanted to actually meet him, she would.

He got up from the bed in the hotel and removed his boxer briefs and then hopped into the steaming hot shower.

Just a few hours before, he'd woken up in the backseat of his car. Sure, it was a late model, luxury brand, but it was also basically all he owned. That and the clothes he had in the trunk and a serviceable laptop computer.

His car was parked outside a coffee shop where he'd been using the free Wi-Fi to complete writing assignments for his one remaining client. It was Friday, which meant payday. Which meant he'd have enough money for a hotel for the weekend and an Airbnb during the week the next week.

He had a few blankets in the back, his laptop in the passenger seat. It wasn't yet winter, so the nights weren't too cold. He'd discovered that he could park his car in a nearby hotel parking lot and sleep there without being detected. He hadn't showered since just before checking out of a hotel on Wednesday morning.

He had, however, been to the liquor store. A bottle of Jim Beam sat with him in the backseat. Bourbon plus bottled water had been enough to help him survive this "rough patch" of the past few months. He'd eat something at McDonald's or Wendy's once a day.

At night, he delivered food for DoorDash - sometimes making enough to get a hotel room for the night. No matter what, though, he had a six pack of cold beer next to him while he picked up and delivered food in the evening hours.

He'd met Liz on a dating app and he really, really need the company of a woman. The pics he'd posted were more than a year old - at least one featured him in a suit.

He'd gained maybe 10 pounds since then and a lack of sleep had not been kind to his eyes.

Still, he was an attractive man. While not tall, he was well-built and had remnants of the runner's body he'd carefully cultivated in the "suit years" of his career. Dark hair and dark eyes and glasses and an easy smile made him seem both fun and trustworthy.

His mind was sharp, even if bourbon-soaked, and this, he'd discovered, made him appealing to a range of women.

He really only wanted one - and could only afford her just after payday.

When he saw Liz, he admired her youth, her exuberance, her large breasts on a small frame - well, she had a compact build overall, thick pretty much all around - but in a very sexy, very welcoming way. Her hair was short and blonde and her eyes were brown and her smile warmed him.

As their date ended, he'd realized he had his hand on her leg - and the thought of touching her more intimately made him grin.

As soon as she left, he order a shot plus another cocktail. Nearly $200 later, he'd leave the bar and go to his car where the half-empty bottle of bourbon awaited.

One long chug on the bottle and he looked at his phone.

He stared at the last text from her - from the woman he'd been seeing for two years until about a month ago.

He was not yet too drunk to forget where he was - just about two miles from her home.

He drove in a fury down the cool streets with the first hints of late-night mist. Turned right down the road leading to her house, drove slowly as he saw it all lit up on the left.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he first glanced at her driveway, thinking it was empty. Another look revealed a black SUV - a car he did not recognized. He turned around at the next street and passed her house again. This time, he could just make out a male figure sitting on the couch where Alex had sat so many nights before. Probably holding a drink in one of the glasses Alex had bought for Emily.

He made himself move on and parked in the corner behind the house, where he could see the lights of each room. The living room light went off, then the light in her bedroom. Alex knew.

Still, he drove past her house - yes, "he" was still there and they were alone, upstairs, in the bed that had once burned brightly for Alex and Emily.

He drove back to the hotel and texted Liz. She was still up and still very interested in Alex. They agreed to meet the next day.

Love
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About the Creator

A.

A. writes creative nonfiction and fiction across a range of genres.

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