Saturday, May 1, 2010

Fast Food Rev 2

I was so excited. I had met Scott last weekend at a friend’s party and he was so cute. And he called.

I’m not sure what we were going to do except grab a bite but a least I knew we weren’t just heading for the local watering hole to spend hours drinking and breathing second hand smoke, or maybe its 3rd hand smoke since the law requires them to step outside- and the smell is from their clothing. God and to think I smoked for 30 years.



The doorbell rang and as I ran to answer it I stopped for a moment to look in the mirror and smile at myself to see what he will see. I’d had a glass of champagne an hour ago to try to settle down and it seemed to make it worse. I opened the door and there he was. He is so gorgeous.

All of us had been trying to get his attention at the party and I won the prize. At least I was sober enough to just give him my number and not just hop into bed with him. See mom was right. Guys want only what they can’t have.


I grabbed my jacket and we headed down the stairs from my apartment to his motorcycle. Perfect- now my hair will look awful because of the helmet so I’ll have to try to get to the restroom before he has a chance to check me out before we get into the restaurant.

I managed to do that and am happy with the repair job in no time heading back out to join him, at a table near the kitchen.

I told them we’d take whatever table was open he said. Silently I sat down, disappointed and disheartened because he was sitting against the wall leaving me to dodge the swinging kitchen doors as the wait staff came and went.

I’ve ordered for us he noted and I nodded and smiled wondering what in the world he ordered since he barely knew me. The waitress walked up to the table, set the drinks down, and thanked him by name when he left a big tip on her tray. She smiled at him intimately as if they shared a secret.

The drinks were in a tall glass and seemed to be various vibrant colored liqueurs layered carefully and finished off with a flame that was quickly extinguished. I had just turned 21 and he was 28, an experienced guy with an air of confidence.

I took the first sip and almost gagged at its syrupy sweetness but struggled to maintain my composure as I choked it down. The waitress returned and by now I knew her name was Bamby.

The tray held two apple martinis. I had heard of them but since my drinking credentials were limited to the occasional over indulgence “trying to impress a boy”, or trying to push past my shyness, I had yet to do a comprehensive tasting of the world of hard liquor.


Scott encouraged me to take a sip and he finished his drink off in one movement.

My hands were shaking as I lifted the delicate martini glass by the stem and brought it towards my mouth. The sticky, sweet, antiseptic smelling liquid slopped over the rim and dripped onto the table and began running down my arm. I took a small sip and my right arm and my throat joined forces and took on a life of their own as they conspired to empty the entire contents of the glass in one movement mirroring what Scott had done.

I briefly paused and thought, what am I doing? but the alcohol entering my system overwhelmed any thought of a coherent answer. Feeling very wobbly, I watched the waitress arrive with our salads and Ithought I heard him tell Bamby to pack up the dinners to go.

That’s odd. Struggling to pick up the fork and get something into my stomach before I made a fool of myself.  I hoped he wouldn’t notice that I was already intoxicated and in fact was very close to getting sick.

It seemed like only seconds later when Bamby came back with the “to go" containers and Scott was helping her to stand up and head out the door... With his hand under her left elbow he guided her towards the parking lot.

She realized her purse and her sweater were still at the table and when she finally got his attention, he sat her down on the bench outside the door while he went in to retrieve them, after giving the valet his ticket and their dinner containers.

The valet opened the passenger door and helped her into the car. Her head was spinning and she was still not really sure if she was going to get sick. She leaned back, closed her eyes and tried to will herself back to sobriety and to the vivaciousness she had started the evening with.

Scott slipped unsteadily into the driver’s seat, slipping the valet a bill "thanks man" he said. He paused at the driveway exit then lurched into a left turn onto the highway headed north.

I'm not really sure what happened over the next few minutes. The next thing I knew we were pulling into my driveway, he was taking her keys and their dinners out of the car. She could see him going into the kitchen in her apartment to get silverware and a napkin and then sitting down at the dining table to eat his meal.

Is he going to leave me out here? She thought and fell asleep. Moments later she was abruptly awakened when the car door opened and he pulled her up and out of the car and towards the apartment. She pulled away from him and hunched over the lawn, finally releasing the liquor she should never have touched, must less drank. He dropped her arm and continued into the apartment looking at her with disgust.

I walked unsteadily into the hall and went directly into the bathroom and locked the door. What the hell happened, she glanced in the mirror and was glad to see she didn’t look as bad as she felt and tried to figure out how she was going to get him out of the house so she could go to sleep in peace. She decided to take her time and carefully washed the makeup off her face and brushed her hair. She straightened her top and ran a toothbrush over her teeth.

She heard him in the other room turning on her stereo and she was grateful she was in her own home instead of across town in his apartment in a strange neighborhood. Smiling again to herself into the mirror she walked out and down the hall where she saw him laying on her couch, just finishing up her dinner.

It’s time to go I said with conviction. Where? To your room he smiled at her confidently. You’ve got to be kidding, get out of here.


Hey- I bought you dinner you owe me, (his idea of sweet talk apparently) he said abruptly, his voice lowered.


Now! Get the hell out! She said shrilly and as he stepped through eh front door, she threw his car keys after him onto the porch, slammed the door and turned the dead bolt.

I heard him swearing as he bumped his head on the porch railing bending down to retrieve his keys off the ground. As the crunching sound of the car reversing over the gravel at the side of her driveway rang out in the early evening air, she hoped he didn’t take out a sprinkler.

She heard the tea kettle whistle behind her and realized he had turned it on, and she went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea to relax her. She sat down at the dining table and ate the last bits of the 2 dinners he had devoured mostly vegetable s and a little bit of meat.

She wiped her mouth with a dishtowel, picked up the containers and took them outside to the trash, tossing the dishtowel on the washer on the way out the door.

I heard the door close behind me and with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach realized I  might have automatically locked it by pushing down the button as I walked out. Oh shit she said aloud. This is definitely not my night.

©2010 SharonJCorrigan

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