Wait Till Sue Hears About This

I was sitting at the bar with my third cocktail when I looked around the whole bar area and noticed a pretty young lady. She was sitting alone at a small table behind my barstool. How long had she been there? How long have I been drinking? Have I drank enough to forget that I’m still unemployed?...Nope, guess not. I gazed at her for a moment. From her sideways angle she was facing the entrance door and likely only saw me in her peripheral vision. I examined her face, very pretty, blue eyes, redhead, nice features, yet with a sad look. Her lips curved down as she looked at her neglected drink. In a chivalrous and semi-drunken move I sat in the empty seat across from her, put my drink down, and said, “You look sad. Need cheering up?”

My random presence and words seemed to have affected her, as she now stared at me.

“Uh…”, she uttered as I leaned forward, my face resting on my palms as I gazed upon her.

“Are you sad? I’m a good listener. Did your best friend betray you, did you just see a tearjerker of a film, or are you just feeling lonely?”

She was silent for a short while. “Well sir…I…I suppose I am sad.”

“Wanna talk about it?” I interrupted.

Again, she stared at me in silence. She seemed to be calculating how eccentric I am, how drunk I am, how friendly I am, and whether or not I deserve any of her actual time or life story.

“Buy me an appletini?”, she then asked.

I nodded, pointed to her, stating her drink order to the bartender, who nodded at me.

I gulped down the rest of my Tom Collins, and added another to my bar order.

Our drinks arrived.

“Well”, began the woman as she took her appletini, “I was on a blind date.”

“Let me guess, the guy was a jerk.”

“Well…yeah, kind of.”

“Kind of?” I asked.

“Let me tell the story, please, no interruptions”, she said in a timid voice.

I pantomimed the sealing and locking of my lips, putting the key in my shirt pocket.

She continued her tale, “Well…it was a blind date, like I said. We met at a bistro near here. I got there early. I was very nervous. I haven’t had much luck in dating. I’m 28, a paralegal, and I haven’t…well…I showed up early, got us a table. My friend Sue set the whole thing up…”

She paused. I stayed silent, the key to my mouth still tucked away respectfully.

“He showed up, and…saw that I am in a wheelchair.”

I looked at her more closely. Oh. That’s right, she is in a wheelchair. I noticed when I first saw her, but didn’t think anything of it, being lost in her eyes and such. I pointed to my mouth. She nodded. I took out the imaginary key and unlocked my lips. I threw the key into the air. She caught it.

“Let me guess”, I interjected, “It played out like a Dhar Mann video. He was a jerk, or he left, said something stupid, asked rude questions, shit like that.”

She nodded and took a sip. “Pretty much. Sue thought we would get along because he also worked in law…but…”

“Well that guy was an idiot. I hope you’re not sitting here blaming all men and thinking all men suck. Because I know I don’t suck, and I’m very manly.”

She giggled, softly, then took another sip.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve that”, I said.

“Thanks”, she replied in her timid tone.

“I’m Chris by the way”, I said.

“Polly.”

We shook hands.

“I like that name. You have pretty eyes too, Polly. I hope you don’t mind me saying that. It was the first thing I noticed about you.”

She smiled, “That’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s true. Tell you what…”, I suddenly stood. “Why don’t we fix what happened?”

She looked at me curiously, “What do you mean?”

“I mean is…well….what if instead I’m your blind date, the guy Sue set you up with? And we’re meeting here. Your nervous system needs me. Can we give it a try?”

She blinked a few times, “Uh….I guess.”

“Perfect.”

I turned around and walked out of the bar, still holding my drink.

I waited about twenty, maybe thirty seconds to set the scene. During that time I took a few breaths and got into the right headspace. I then came back in. I glanced around the bar, mimicking a man looking for his date.

Polly raised her hand, “Uh…over here.”

I smiled and approached her, hand out again, “Hi. I’m Chris. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi. I’m Polly.”

We shook hands again. I sat across from her, setting my drink down.

“I’m glad you chose this place. Seems nice, very college town vibe.”

“It is”, she agreed.

“So Sue told me about you just a bit. Told me you’re a paralegal, right?”

She nodded, “And what about you?”

“Well Polly, my dear, I am between jobs at the moment. I used to do field work, then I worked in gravel. I’m thinking about going to college, maybe doing something in sports medicine. I don’t know.”

“Well, why not? If it’s something you like.”

“Thanks. I might do that. Or brewing, maybe teach saxophone.”

“You play the saxophone?”, she asked, a smile present.

“No. But I just have to stay at least a few lessons ahead of the student and maybe I can fake it.”

She laughed.

“So Polly, tell me more about yourself. All I know is that you work in law and have pretty eyes.”

She blushed.

We continued to speak for a while. Our conversation went through a few beginning tropes - weather, family, place of origin, favorite movies, books, shows, then we shifted into hopes and dreams, unique experiences, past and potential trips. I recommended the best BBQ in Dallas and she the best Seattle seafood.

How much time passed? One hour? Two? More libations were ordered during all this. Finally, Polly had to say it, although she was slurring her words a bit by then.

“You….you haven’t asked me any questions about my wheelchair.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes wide, focusing on her, not wanting my attention as numb as the rest of me.

“Many people get curious, Chris. They do. They want to know if I always had one, what happened, how long I’ve needed one. And…well…to be honest….Men often wonder how it will affect…you know….bedroom matters.”

I stared at her through my vodka vision, the air between us silent as her words walked a tightrope between us.

“Are you coming onto me?”, I finally asked.

Her laughing red face went down near the table, a table she then abused with her giddy palm with a few slaps.

At that point the bartender, in his wisdom, cut us both off. I settled the bill.

“Do you want to continue this?” I asked Polly. She nodded.

We made our way into the street, the night air still a bit warm with the summer stars above us.

“Is your car around here?”, Polly asked.

“Nah, I don’t have one. Don’t need one. Everything is nearby and nobody wants me on the road anyway. Plus, we’re both pretty plastered.”

Polly grinned, “Okay. That’s a good point. Responsibility and such”, began Polly, pushing herself to my side. “I’m fine with us walking then. Since you got the drinks, it’s my turn. I know an Italian joint nearby that’s open late, a bit fancy, has great desserts.”

“Lead the way, mademoiselle”, I proclaimed with a slight bow.

We went down the street alongside the river, passing the small bridge that crosses the gentle city waters. I stopped and leaned against the railing, “Do you know the story of this bridge?”

“No”, replied Polly.

“One day a man was walking along here. Right over there, in fact. He looked at this area where the river flows and thought to himself ‘This place needs a bridge’...so he got everyone together and…they built one…The end.”

She shook her head slowly and sighed.

“What? I didn’t say it was an interesting story.”

We found the restaurant and ordered tiramisu for two. The place was nice, with elegant lights, booths, wooden decor and various art pieces featuring an Italian theme, including some tomatoes and basil leaves being chummy.

As we waited for dessert Polly said to me, “Why did you sit down at my table back at the bar?”

I stared at her for a while, finally replying, “Because you’re my date. What would Sue think if I hadn’t?”

Polly and I ended up in an accidental staring contest. It resulted in a draw as the waiter handed us our tiramisu.

“This is so good”, I said as the flavors hugged my palette in a passionate embrace.

The soft custard, rich aromatic coffee, and sweet cacao all melded together.

“I could eat this every day”, said Polly after her second spoonful.

“Okay, tiramisu or panna cotta? Which is better?” I asked.

“Tiramisu on mild days, panna cotta on warmer days, and both all the time.”

“What about cold days?”, I asked.

“A good cuddle buddy to keep you warm as you both eat tiramisu.”

“Good answer.”

Suddenly we both heard a fork hit the floor from across the dining area. While savoring the creamy texture of her latest bite, Polly, distracted by the noise, looked over. Her expression changed.

“That’s him”, she whispered after swallowing, “That’s Sebastian, the man I had my date with earlier.”

I looked over at the table in question, seeing a man in a nice suit, hair combed, and having a late night antipasti plate with a red wine. The waiter gave him a new fork.

“His name is Sebastian?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“The lawyer guy?”

“Yes.”

“What is he, a Disney character?”

Polly chuckled.

Just then he noticed us noticing him.

“Oh, here he comes”, I said.

Suddenly the man in question stood before us, saying, “Polly. Uh..I…hi…uh…I wanted to apologize for earlier. It was rude of me to be so upset and cancel our date after having already arrived. It’s just that Sue never told me about your…your….”

“Wheelchair?”, interrupted Polly.

“Yes. It just took me by surprise is all. I was hoping to take my date rock climbing someday…so…”

“Well, it surprised me too when my spine was crushed ten years ago, but as long as you’re comfortable”, interrupted Polly.

The man took some hard breaths, his cheeks flushed. “Uh…well…I suppose…”

“Do you know why Sue never told you about my wheelchair?” asked Polly.

Sebastian’s brow developed a few beads of sweat, “I think it’s safe to assume that…uhm…well… it was a test of some sort, to…well…see if I would….you know…”

“Be a gentleman? A good person?”, inquired Polly. “You could have at least stayed for a drink or some onion rings. Talked a bit. At least pretended. Instead you showed dismay, said this was a waste of your time, and left me there.”

Brief silence. Sebastian noticed me staring silently at him.

“Yes…I know….”, started Sebastian. “I…I am sorry. I.... I’ve been under a lot of stress lately…and…It’s just as I said…I was hoping…to do more….physical activities with you.”

At that moment it occurred to me that I had not been eccentric or intoxicatedly obscene in probably five minutes. The words “physical activities” inspired me to stand and state, “Polly, did you date this man? Are you in love with him? What physical activities have you done with him? What physical activities does he want to do with you?”

The man froze, his wide eyes on me as Polly saw the glint in mine.

“Oh yes”, said Polly. “I am. I’m sorry dear, but…Sebastian and I had a date earlier today. It was very intimate, very kismet. I fell for him, so I’m leaving you Chris.”

I gasped. “But Polly, what of the children, little Alvin and Theodore? They need you!”

Sebastian’s eyes widened more. “Uh…children?”

“I was never much of a mother to them. You’ll find a new wife, someone who will treat them the way they deserve. Someone who knows how to love you, truly. I’m going to go to Paris with Sebastian, we’ll elope there. We’ll make love under the French stars every night.”

“Uh….”, Sebastian interjected.

“But what of me Polly? What am I to do without you? How could you do this to me?”

I got on my knees, grabbing her hands, “I can’t live without you!”

Polly held my hands tight, looking at me, “I’m sorry Chris, don’t try to talk me out of it. I just don’t love you anymore.”

I stood and pointed at Sebastian, “Then I shall challenge this bastard to a duel! Pistols at dawn!”

Sebastian took a few steps back. “Hey man…I’m not…I mean…I…”

“No Chris, you can’t kill another man because of me!”

I grabbed a knife from another table, at that moment noticing how many confused and curious diners were watching our little skit.

“Then I’ll kill myself dear! I will! If I can’t have you”, I exclaimed, holding the blade into the air.

“Woah man…” said Sebastian, his hands up.

“You always threaten that Chris! But you can’t control me like this anymore! I have to live my own life!”

“I’LL DO IT POLLY! I WILL!”, I stated loudly, eyes wide, hand shaking as I held the knife. At this point some waiters were nearby, hands out as they tried to circle me at a safe distance. The manager was on the phone, calling either his mistress or the fuzz.

“You don’t have what it takes Chris! We both know you won’t do it!”

“Fine Polly! I’ll prove you wrong! You never truly knew me, my passions, what I was capable of! Let the world know that I die for love!”

I plunged the knife into my chest. Polly shrieked in genuine terror. Sebastian ran out of the restaurant screaming. The wait staff came to my aid as I fell onto the floor, taking a table cloth down with me.

I was spread out on the ground, arms and legs extended, a thick redness coating my shirt.

Polly screamed, “OH MY GOD! CHRIS! CHRIS!”

Some diners were standing, some with their cell phones, one or two covered their mouths in horror.

I laid on the ground for a moment, soaking in the scene, giving it my all before my curtain call.

But I smiled. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I rolled onto my side laughing, the knife falling out.

I stood up, the wide eyed waiters still surrounding me. I then pulled the mutilated ketchup packets from my chest pocket, “Had fries with lunch today. All good.”

Polly rolled up to me and started slapping at my torso, “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry, dear.”

“Don’t ever do that again Chris!”

“Sorry. I got carried away.”

“You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that!”

“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to scare you. Come here.”

As Polly and I hugged and I cradled her head to my condiment-stained chest, the wait staff were shaking their heads. The manager asked us to leave just as the police sirens were drawing near.

“Well Polly dear. Wait till I tell Sue about this, boy what a blind date.”