He turned the collar up slowly on his dress coat as he took another sip of his latte. It wasn't supposed to be that cold in there. It was a coffee shop. The temperature should be more comfortable. He laughed to himself contemplating the real reason for the climate. They think they are slick. Having it cool on purpose to sell more cups of joe. Nice.
The door opened again and another lone woman walked into the establishment. She brushed the bangs from her face while simultaneously stomping her boots on the mat to remove the snow. It was yet another woman not donning the lavender scarf he was looking for. She didn't have one at all. By the looks of her outfit, she probably did not even know what a scarf was.
He chuckled quietly as he shook his head sheepishly. Why was he doing this? Why did he ever let his friend talk him into a blind date in the first place? Here he was just fresh of his divorce and dating was the last thing on his mind. All he could think about was capitalizing on the new freedom to spend more time with his twins. Nevertheless, he ended up succumbing to the peer pressure.
The tiny bell jingled again, signifying the entry of the latest custoemr. He glanced over to see if she was the one. A slender woman in approximately her mid-20s. Much more fashionable than the previous patron. She even had the fair features he was drawn to. She also had a very obvious companion with her. Either that or she was just EXTREMELY happy that he was there to catch her when she almost slipped.
He looked at his watch. 5:34. Wasn't the agreed upon time 5:30? It wasn't a good sign that she was a late. Either that or it was rather anxious of him to be so early. He couldn't help it. He just wanted to get the awkwardness out of the way so he could at least say he made an effort. He had to get back on the horse sometime so there was no time like the present.
DING!
Finally. A scarf. Was that lavender though, he wondered? Then it occurred to him that he wasn't completely certain of what color lavender even was. A purplish blue maybe? Or was it a bluish-purple? Her garment clearly had a hue of both to it. She pulled it away from her face cautiously. His eyes were widely fixated on the material as she slowly unraveled it. Just enough to reveal a perfect smile.
He visibly exhaled.
AND? AND? AND? You and Monnie with your piece of stories are killing me.
Posted by: cbean | 17 February 2009 at 08:06 PM
That's because as writers, we understand one of the most important things about creating good fiction: always leave them wanting more!
Posted by: Stan | 17 February 2009 at 08:09 PM
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. LOL
Posted by: cbean | 17 February 2009 at 09:11 PM
That's just how we roll! LOL!
Posted by: Stan | 17 February 2009 at 09:25 PM