When Wine and Tension Meet

As I looked around the room sitting at this lone table, I wonder what I have done to be in this position.

Looking around at the happy couples, it brought me back to the point that I probably should not be there at this time.

Entertaining this glass of Merlot was easy. Sitting here contemplating how I ended up on a date if you could call it that, with a chauvinistic and obviously self important fool, was the highlight of my evening.

Let me start at the beginning.

There was a contest ran in a local magazine where you could win a date with the editor in chief of this rag. A lot of people that had had the chance to meet him, painted him in favorable light.

They always commented on how intelligent he was. How he always was well mannered and took pride in his appearance. Any image they showed of him, showed him with a slow, casual smile with what appeared to be white teeth with sharp canines and averagely full lips.

His hair was a dark dirty blonde with lighter blonde highlights that spoke of many summers and hours spent in the sun. He wore a small wire framed pair of glasses that seem to make his moss green eyes reflect light like prisms. His build was average. Standing merely 5'10 he was of a slender build. Longer limbs gave him a awkward adolescent feel but the sharpness in his eyes shown confidence of a person who knew their place was in the top ten percent.

I had come to the conclusion, he had to have paid those individuals. What came out of his mouth that wasn't condescending, was completely offensive or lacked any logical thoughts. If this was a contest to show how much one person could brag about themselves, he couldn't pick a winner because obviously, he couldn't compete against himself. As I took note of the luscious red liquid and the gorgeous crystal stemware, I wondered if I could go back in time and cancel this train wreck before I wasted the time putting on my heels.

All the other couples and patrons around us had an air around them that was fragrant with excitement, rapt attention and compatibility. My own bubble was currently contaminated with these thoughts and urge of homicidal tendencies struggling to break free.

I felt the smile on my face ease more toward a plastic smile that immolated a child’s doll. A smile reminiscent of a Glasgow grin slowly made its way to the forefront of my features was sure to follow. I felt my brown eyes gloss over in an uninterested gleam as I gently shook my wrist to activate my watch’s face. I only had to make it to 9:00 p.m. that was only another 40 minutes away. I felt my heart deflate. Only 40 more minutes to pretend I was having the time of my life with a man that had as much charm as a mold encrusted turnip.

As much as I hated to say it, the fragrant, berry wine with rich, woodsy, cocoa notes that I had been gently sipping on, was not looking promising. I have no faith that this lovely, full-bodied drink could save the evening.

It was almost cruel in fact. I had been single for a few years and the night were spent with my two feline friends. Or, more like freeloading roommates, if I really thought about it.

My tight, chocolate covered strawberry colored hair was styled in ringlets pinned back on one side by turquoise floral pins with tiny, gold and sea glass green seed beads. My dress was beige with coral, gold, turquoise and brown flowers and branches that fell loosely to my ankles.

My eye makeup was in light pinky corals and oranges with shimmering gold accents that drew light to my cinnamon orbs. The deep cupid’s bow of my lips was lined in a darker brown than my skin with a nude pink gloss popped in the center. It gave the illusion of full, pouty lips that spoke of sensuality and confidence.

I must have done well at given the appropriate cues to my date, if you could call him that. Judging by the fact that he continued to talk as if I was interested, I must have been doing a pretty good job subconsciously. I almost missed it. Across the room but behind the editor's shoulder, there was a man that appeared to be part of the staff. The look in his eyes told me that he could see that I would rather be anywhere else than at this table. Honestly, I would rather be at a funeral and a thunderstorm wearing a tin metal dress.

Keeping his eye, I gave a soft nod. I knew he understood because he returned my nod with a soft bow. A few moments later, he approached the table with what looked to be a remorseful face.

“I'm terribly sorry to interrupt however ma'am, there's a phone call for you at the front desk. I believe the name of the individual was Yvette?” the man’s voice was smooth and rich like the merlot that I had almost finished by myself. I excuse myself without allowing the date to interject. Walking up front and acting as if I took the phone and began to talk, I realized our table was within eyesight of the hostess stand if he had bothered to turn around. I forced myself into a worked up state in order to perpetuate the lie a little bit better. I hung up the phone with more force than what was necessary and made my way back to the table.

I apologized for the interruption and began to explain why I had to cut our evening short. He gave a short laugh explaining how he knew that I was making it up. He also was aware that I was mildly inattentive the whole time. Those statements made me wonder why he stayed.

When I asked him those questions, he said it was simple. He just wanted to watch what a woman would do when placed in that situation. That slow, easy and charming smile that he was known for came forth for the first time that evening. And in that moment, I was completely perplexed.

He calmly and logically started talking about an article he was working on. It went into detail about how women perceive individuals on dates when they are not in control of the situation. And some of the things to look for when dealing with a female who's uncomfortable. He said I did very well at masking my irritation but he could tell by the way I was sipping at my wine.

He said is spoke by the tension in my shoulders and the way my hand grip the stem of the glass. It was almost like a veiled strength that was keeping my hand calm all the while my tension in my shoulders spoke volumes. I was shocked. I was mildly embarrassed by my own actions but at the same time I was relieved.

That side of him he showed, it was only an act. He gently stood and took out his wallet. He placed a few bills on the table and gently kissed the back of my hand. As he bid me a good evening and began to take his leave, he stated that he would look forward to giving me a chance to make up for my inattentiveness. The whole time he spoke, he has a sly grin that made him look like a boyish rogue with many a secrets in his eyes with a knowing wink.

As he walked out the establishment, I slowly felt the tension in my shoulders ease away. And for the first time that evening, I could take a breath as I sat there and finished my last glass of Merlot. All the while, I pondered how I would get him off his toes next time. The anger I had at the beginning, faded as my eyes looked at his business card.

Marlyne Everston

The Post Up

Editor in Chief