@bourgeoisraven gets a starter!
Sophie died a little bit inside every time her date spoke. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to go out with Chad in the first place; his name should have been red flag number one. If she hadn’t been caught off guard she would have said no, just like she would have told him, ‘No Chad, you can’t have one of my wings,’ if he just would have asked.
But he didn’t ask, and now she couldn’t even enjoy her food while she had to hear about how direct sales was the way to go. It sounded like a crock of shit to her, and she was about to finally say as much when she noticed that Chad...looked a little blue. That’s when the coughing started, and Sophie got up to help, but fuck if she could remember how to do the Heimlich. By that time other folks had noticed and someone had came over to help but...it seemed like it was too late.
Maybe it was a good thing he grabbed that chicken wing or she could have been a goner.
So here she was, ordering a shot, trying to ignore the fact that people were staring at her because her date just got wheeled off in a body bag. Maybe it was callous to still be at the restaurant, but she had seen enough death in her lifetime doing what she did that it didn’t phase her as much as it did; maybe when she was home alone she’d feel bad for thinking the things she did before he died, but for right now she just wanted to take as many shots as she could until she forgot what happened.
“You know what? Tonight was a lousy date.”
