A SHORT STORY
Copyright 2017 by Horny Goat Publishing. All rights reserved.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are
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PRAISE FOR JACK LONG
LONG IS A MASTER EROTICIST."
LIKE YOU'RE PEEKING IN THE WINDOW..."
THE ACTION GOT ANY HOTTER IT WOULD MELT YOUR KINDLE."
ALL PERSONS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY ARE AT LEAST EIGHTEEN YEARS OF
Josie stood in front of her bathroom mirror, putting on her make-up.
She had a date that night -- a first date with a guy whose praises
had been sung by Josie's best friend, Kay, who worked with Mr. First
Date. Josie had heard just about every variation of, "You'll
love him!" and "You're perfect for one another!" and
"Just give it a chance!" that it was possible to hear in
the past week since Kay had brought the idea up, and now there she
was, standing in her bathroom putting on make-up when all she really
wanted to do was crawl into bed and lose herself in a Netflix binge.
She'd been meaning to watch the latest season of House of Cards,
and given her dating history and luck with men, she thought she'd be
better off chasing after Kevin Spacey than she would going out with
I don't even know his name, she realized, her mascara brush
pausing in mid-air.
It was going to be a long night.
Josie finished her make-up and went to sit on the couch and wait.
She was driving herself to the restaurant where they were to dine
(she'd learned her lesson long ago about letting a first date know
where she lived; some guys didn't handle rejection well, and she
didn't want to go through another stint of having a love-sick but
crazy suitor pounding on her door at four in the morning and waking
up all her neighbors), but as always, she had gotten ready way too
early. She considered pulling Netflix up on her phone and cuddling
into her favorite corner of the couch to kill some time, but she knew
if she did that she'd be getting a phone call from Kay later in the
evening, scolding her for not showing up for her dinner with Mr.
Josie sighed. She wasn't really into the dating and really wasn't
looking for love. She wondered if maybe she ought to just be honest:
meet the guy for dinner and tell him right up front that she's
perfectly happy to have a meal with him but that she wasn't really on
the market just then, despite the sales pitch he'd surely gotten from
Kay. She would pay for her own meal of course, and it was awfully
nice to meet him, but that really ought to just be the end of it.
One dinner, friendly conversation, and then they could go their
Hope swelled inside of her at the thought of so simple and
uncomplicated a transaction between two people, but then she
remembered that it was her life she was thinking about, and nothing
ever went quite so smoothly. Trouble seemed to find her a
fascinatingly fine companion, and she was sure that if there was
trouble to be found with (or had from) Mr. First Date, it was bound
to land squarely in her lap.
She glanced at the clock to see she was still ten minutes early, but
decided to go ahead and leave anyway. If she didn't, she was likely
to take herself up on the
curl-up-on-the-couch-and-watch-Netflix-on-her-phone idea, which
seemed a much happier prospect than going out on a date and meeting
# # #
Josie got to the restaurant ten minutes early, and to her surprise
she found that Mr. First Date was already there, waiting for her.
Disinterested as she may be at the prospect of this first date, she
always noticed and admired punctuality. So few people, men or women,
appreciated it these days.
"Hey," he said, standing and straightening his tie. This
detail took Josie by surprise as well: he was punctual and he'd
worn a tie. Well, he was certainly making a good first impression.
She could only hope that she was as well, with her own punctual
arrival and the sleek black dress she'd stuffed herself into for the
occasion. Disinterested or no, she couldn't bring herself to look
frumpy on a first date.
"Hey," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Josie."
"Dave," he said, shaking her hand. His grip was light but
strong. It was, she thought, the perfect handshake for a man to give
a woman. Respectful, but without all the macho bravado bullshit.
"Sorry about Kay," Josie said. She always felt obliged to
apologize for her friend's tenacity. Kay got an idea in her head and
that was that; neither hell nor high water, as Josie's mother used to
say, would get in her way.
Dave smiled knowingly. "She's fun," he said, and then --
surprising Josie yet again -- offered her his arm. She smiled up at
him and took it, letting him lead the way to their table.