LOCATION: ANY RESTAURANT OR CAFE TYPE PLACE
Well she had to admit, this was new. Sitting at her table, elbow resting on it so her chin was propped on the back of her hand, Jasmine blew out a breath. She’d dealt with late arrivals, last minute rearrangements and even a catfish or two in her time, but not once had she ever been stood up. God damn, tinder. It was now thirty five minutes after her date was supposed to arrive and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the man that had entered, looked around and immediately left again, twenty minutes earlier, was the person she was supposed to meet.
Reaching for her drink, Jasmine took a sip before reaching for her phone. If she was going to sit alone, she might as well be on the phone to a friend whilst she did it. Pressing dial on the number to her oldest friend back in Portland, the girl groaned quietly as it instantly went to voicemail. “Oh, come on, don’t kick a girl when she’s down!”
The shame in drinking alone had gone out of Elody at least five years ago. For all it’s pros, though, there was one glaring con — strangers that felt the need to sidle up to her and make small talk. And after the what felt like a half an hour of trying to make an escape from the man who was old enough to be her grandfather, she was getting desperate. A quick scan of the room offered little solace — couples leaned forward in gentle conversation, families barely containing restless children. She had just accepted her fate when she noticed the woman sitting at a table alone. Bingo. Turning to the bartender and ordering a second glass of wine, Elody offered the man as close to an apologetic smile as she managed with a short ‘you know, I just noticed my friend over there.’ She wasn’t even particularly convincing, but it was the thought that counted, she justified.
She settled in at the table, placing the drink in front of the other as a sort of peace offering. “I’m gonna level with you,” she said, half-smile curving her lips as she placed her palms flat on the table. “You look like whoever you’re meeting is hella late, and if I have to listen to Mr. ‘you’d be prettier if you smiled’ talk for two more minutes,” she paused long enough to shift her eyes back to the man at the bar, “I’m strangling him with my bare hands. And now that I’ve told you, you’re complicit.” She said, wrinkling her nose. “As soon as he loses interest, I’m out of you way. Deal?”
