The Last First Date

2 years.

That's how long it has been since I have been on a date. Let alone a blind date, where I have no clue what this man even looks like.

This was my sister's idea. She states I need to "get back out there", like it's an issue being single.

I, for one, love being single. I don't have to rely on anyone else, no one is waiting up for me at home in case I have too much to drink and crash at a friend's house.

I can, quite literally, do whatever I want.

When Alice, my sister, suggested I go on a date with her husband's friend, I laughed in her face.

She scowled back at me and said, "Annie, if you never date again, you are going to be a lonely widow the rest of your life. You don't even have a cat to keep you company during your knitting days!"

Yes, that's right. I am a widow. I am 26 years old and my husband died two years ago.

The last time I went on a date was for our 2nd anniversary.

A week later, he was shot and killed in the line of duty. Policeman in downtown LA. He never stood a chance.

Back to the present.

All I know about this blind date is the man's name; Henry.

Already, I'm judging him.

Does he have a beard? I'm not a fan of those. Is he talkative and will overshadow my words? Is he a gloater and only talks about himself?

The uncertainty of it all unsettles me.

I grab a bottle of Merlot off of my newly purchased Alcohol cabinet and pour a small glass.

If I'm going to this thing, I need a splash of liquid courage.

I look at the time, 6:41.

Shoot, I have to leave in 4 minutes. I don't even have my dress on yet.

I'm meeting this Henry at La Boucherie, a place I enjoy for special occasions only. My bank account only allows so many trips.

I quickly slip into my deep violet dress and zip up. I step into my black strappy heels and glance at my image in the mirror one last time.

Here goes nothing.

~~

I arrive at exactly 7, not a minute later. I rush inside and stop in my tracks. I have no idea what he looks like and vice versa. How am I going to point him out in this crowded restaurant?

"Annie?" A deep voice echoes behind me.

I twirl around and in front of me stands the most well-dressed man I have ever met. Black coat jacket, black and tight undershirt, fitted black jeans, and shining black shoes. No beard, that's a plus. His haircut is short and clean like his hairdresser knew what they were doing.

"Henry?" I question back.

He opens his mouth wide and smiles, his bright white teeth beaming back at me. "That's me. Shall we find a table?"

I gulp, at a loss for words. This is not what I expected. "Ye..Yes. Let's do that." I spin back around to the hostess and ask for a table for two.

I am very aware of the gorgeous man behind me as I try to walk normally in front of him to our table. Right foot. Left Foot. Right Foot. Sit.

We thank the hostess and now we're alone. Am I sweating? Ugh, why am I so nervous?

The waitress saves us from any awkward introductions just yet by coming by and taking our drink order.

I order another glass of Merlot, what can it hurt? I ask for a glass of water as well to stay hydrated.

Henry orders some red wine I'm not familiar with. Good, so we've both ordered a drink. I was afraid of seeming like an alcoholic, ordering alcohol on the first date.

As we look over the menu, I feel Henry's eyes on me every so often. I can tell he's about to say something because he keeps opening and closing his mouth.

"So, Alice says you haven't been on a date in a while."

Ouch, sis. I'm not surprised she told him, but still.

"Yeah, it's been about 2 years. How long has it been for you?" I ask.

He answers quickly. "About a week."

Oh, great. So now I seem like a freak. He goes on dates all of the time. I mean, look at him.

I nod and smile back. "That is our first difference, Henry. I'm sure it won't be the last."

The waitress comes back again and takes our dinner order. I sit up a little straighter in my seat once she leaves, hoping to feel more confident for the conversation that is to follow.

But, nothing comes. We sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before each of us tries to ask a few questions here and there. Nothing substantial comes of anything.

For a guy that looks like he does, he's a boring conversationalist.

Once our food arrives and we start eating, the conversation dies down even further. All I'm focused on is finishing my glass of Merlot and getting the hell out of here.

I excuse myself to go to the restroom and when I come back, mystery Henry is gone. While I was gone a whole 5 minutes or less, he has paid the check and disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

Not wanting to go back to my lonely apartment so soon, I sulk over to the bar and take a seat.

I nod at the bartender and get his attention. "Vodka Soda, please. Hold the soda."

I pull out my phone and shoot Alice a text.

I've been dined and ditched by an attractive, yet boring man. Tell me my life gets better from here. -Annie

She types back right away.

He ditched you? That SOB, I'll have David talk to him. He always seemed so nice when I talked to him. Have a drink on me! -Alice

The bartender sets my drink down in front of me and I hand him my card for my tab. Oh yeah, I'm not stopping here.

I down my drink and lift it up for another.

"Rough night, huh?" I hear from beside me.

I chuckle. "You have no idea."

"I bet your story can't top mine," the man beside me challenges.

I finally look over and see the man actually trying to keep up a conversation with me.

He's dressed much more casually than Henry. Blue jeans and a black button-up shirt. But, oddly, he looks just as good.

I hold up my fresh drink towards him and say, "You're on."

He laughs and clinks his half-full glass with mine.

Maybe this won't be the worst first date ever.

**It has been so long since I have created a fiction story and I am so proud of it! My favorite thing to do is write a story, as I have written a novel myself.

I hope you all enjoyed this; let me know what you think!

As always, feel free to leave a heart or tip if you would like. Those aren't expected but appreciated.