The Damsel in Distress

I couldn’t take it anymore. This date had gone from bad to worse. In fact, it may go down in the record books as the worst first date in modern history. Maybe of all time. The only thing that could possibly top it would be for it to end in death or dismemberment. Thank god I was only a witness to this travesty, not an actual participant. Still, I couldn’t help but feel bad for the petite blonde.

I noticed her immediately as I passed her table and grabbed a stool at the bar. Hell, you’d have to be dead not to. Long blonde hair falling in waves past her shoulders, big green eyes that sparkled in the low ambient light of the bar and grill. She was sitting by herself, nervously twisting a napkin in her hands when a beefy guy sporting two polo shirts sauntered over to the table. He was built like a football player gone to seed and, between the two popped collars and over-gelled hair, looked like he had walked straight out of 2003.

“Katie? Sorry I’m late. You know how it goes,” He flashed her what I’m sure he thought was a charming smile. His voice didn’t have even a hint of remorse in it.

“Oh, no problem. And it’s actually Kady, with a D. And you must be Greg,” she said with a warm smile. I’d have bet my next paycheck his name would’ve been Chad. She extended her hand to shake his and he grabbed it, pulling it to his mouth and brushing his lips across her knuckles with a lecherous smile. She gently pulled her arm back and hid her hands under the table as the waitress approached.

“Can I get you two something to drink?”

“I’ll take a glass of merlot pl-”

“No, we’ll both take mojitos, double shots of rum,” Greg said with a smirk, his eyes roaming over the waitress’s body. Geez, this guy was a real winner.

“I’d really prefer a glass of merlot, I’m allergic to mi-” Kady began, but the jerk cut her off again.

“Trust me Kat, they make the best mojitos here, you’re gonna love it.” He turned back to the waitress, “chop chop doll, thanks.”

Believe it or not, the conversation devolved from there. While waiting for their drinks, Kady was regaled with 101 highlights from Greg’s “stellar” high school football career. He was really getting into it, his hands flailing around like an air traffic controller while recounting his glory days. As Greg mimicked a catch, his arm shot out just in time to knock the tray of drinks out of the waitress’s hands. Glass shattered on the ground as sticky sweet liquid splashed on Kady’s legs. She excused herself to the restroom to clean up while the waitress mopped up the mess.

Well, that date’s over, there’s no way she’s coming back after that, I thought to myself as Kady all but ran to the restroom. I’d be crawling out a sewer pipe, Shawshank Redemption style, if necessary to escape this date from hell. However, a few minutes later, I was proven wrong as she slowly made her way back to the table, a forced smile on her face as she reclaimed her seat. Greg immediately launched into a diatribe regarding the waitress’s ineptitude.

If Kady’s face was any indication, Greg’s litany of abuse of the waitress was not scoring him any points. Her polite smile had transformed into a scowl as she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. The idiot must be completely clueless if he couldn’t pick up the cues her body language was giving off. There might as well have been a freaking neon sign flashing “WARNING; DANGER” over her head. I decided it was time to take drastic action.

Sliding off my bar stool, I circled around the dining area and approached their table. Her eyes flicked up and caught mine. Her head cocked to the side with a bemused look on her face as I shot her a quick wink.

“Kady! Thank god I found you! It’s Aunt Lucy. She’s in the hospital, we have to go right now!”

Greg gawks at me as his brow wrinkles in confusion. Then I see her face light up as she leans forward. “Aunt Lucy? Oh no, what happened?” She says with fake concern, but I can see the smile threatening at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s horrible! She got in a brawl at the Renaissance Faire. Apparently there was only one turkey leg left and the lady in front of her bought it. And you know how much she loves her turkey legs. Come on, Uncle Billy’s waiting for us outside.”

Grabbing her purse, Kady jumped up from her chair, “Sorry, Greg, but I have to go. Family emergency. I’ll call you,” she said, no longer able to suppress her grin.

“Sorry for interrupting your date, we’ll send Aunt Lucy your love,” I tell him as I throw a twenty on the table. Greg continues to stare at us, mouth wide open, clearly at a loss for words as we rush towards the exit.

We push through the door and quickly turn the corner so we’re no longer in view of the bar in case Greg decided to follow us out. The sun is just starting to set and the sidewalk is crowded with people making their way to the little shops and bars that line the street.

“So, do you go to a lot of Renaissance Faires?” she asks with a smirk as we make our way down the street. Our pace has slowed as we walk side by side, arms bumping into each other.

“Honestly, it was the first thing that popped into my head. Anything to end that date. It was painful for me and I wasn’t even on it.”

“Tell me about it. I was trying to find a way to bolt without being rude, but was drawing a blank. Thanks.”

I stop and turn towards her, “Any time, I’ve always wanted to save a damsel in distress” I say. I cast my mind around, trying to think of something else to say before she walks away.

“My hero,” she laughs. “Hey, I obviously didn’t have a chance to eat dinner and am starving. Want to join me? I at least owe you a drink for the rescue.”

I mentally pump my fists into the air. “Yeah, that’d be great. But it’s my treat since it’s my fault you didn’t get dinner.” We duck into a little Italian restaurant and are seated in a booth towards the back.

“I wonder if this place makes a good mojito?” I deadpan without lifting my eyes from my menu. Kady cracks up, laughing too hard to place her drink order when the waiter stops at our table. “Don’t worry, I got this,” I say with an exaggerated wink and turn to the waiter. “Could you please bring us a bottle of merlot?”

“Wow, you really were paying attention. How very stalkerish of you.” Her smile beguiles her words. The waiter returns and, popping the cork, proceeds to pour us both a glass. I’m not usually a wine drinker, but tonight, I’m willing to give it a go. I take a drink and am surprised by the different flavors the hit my tongue, berry and chocolate, maybe a hint of vanilla.

As the conversation flows, one bottle quickly becomes two and dinner turns into dessert. Before we know it, we realize we’re the last people in the restaurant.

“You know, I don’t think many people can say they had their worst first date and best first date on the same night,” Kady muses as we walk out of the restaurant. The sun had long gone down and just a sliver of moon is visible overhead. Kady stops on the sidewalk, which is almost empty now.

“Definitely a night for the record books,” I say as I slowly lean in, giving her time to move away.

Instead, she moves even closer and lifts her chin, bringing her mouth dangerously close to mine. I tilt my head down, closing the distance between our lips and kiss her. I taste tiramisu and merlot on her lips and savor the flavor.

She gently pulls back and, looking up at me, says “How are you on second dates?”