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31_days2008-01-30 10:02 pm
rosehiptea.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-01-30 10:02 pm
[January 30] [Original] Dinner Date
Title: Dinner Date
Day/Theme: January 30/the formula defining the concept of existence
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Evan/Michelle
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,104
Evan found the phone number in his wallet as he was paying for dinner. It was just a number and the name “Michelle.” The paper was old and creased as if he’d been carrying it around for a while. He had no idea what it meant. If he had met a woman by that name he couldn’t remember it, and he should have put the number right into his cell phone. It wasn’t as if he met women all the time, and the lack of a last name indicated it was personal.
When he got home it was still only eight o’clock, plenty of time for a phone call. But he still wasn’t certain he should call at all. Whoever she was, she probably wouldn’t be too impressed to hear from someone who didn’t remember who he was or where he had met her, and he doubted he could fake it very well. Still, this was a woman, who had apparently wanted him to have her number at some point, and it seemed wrong to just throw it away. Finally he decided to just call. With a little effort maybe he could manage to avoid sounding completely creepy.
“Hello?”
“Is this Michelle?” he asked, his mouth slightly dry with nervousness.
“Yes…”
“This is Evan Stone.”
“Oh! David said you might call. But that was a long time ago.”
That sounded like he hadn’t actually met her after all. Evan knew a couple of guys named David, but neither one was likely to want to introduce him to a woman. But it must have happened, even if he couldn’t remember it. He wondered which David she meant, but now he could hardly ask “David who?”
“You’re the furniture salesman, right?”
“Yes,” said Evan. Did that mean this was business after all? But he worked in a store; no one ever called him up to talk about furniture.
“Um… what do you do?” he asked her, not sure if it was the right kind of question at all.
“I’m in pharmaceuticals. So… Dave said you like Indian food?”
That was true, and now this sounded like this was definitely supposed to be some kind of blind date. So presumably she was single. Of course, he had no idea why anyone had thought he might be interested in her, or she in him, but she had a nice voice and Indian food was a place to start.
“Yeah, I love it. There’s a really good place down the street from me…” He was moving way too fast, but if they stayed on the subject of what David said he would be in trouble.
“Maybe we could get together for dinner then?”
Evan swallowed hard. “Sure! Are you free Friday at eight?” He gave an address. Now he was wondering what she knew about him, or thought she knew, if she had agreed to this so easily. And what was he supposed to know about her?
“All right!” she replied, sounding cheerful.
“How will I recognize you?” He almost panicked after he said it. Was he supposed to know what she looked like?
“I’ll be wearing a white blouse and black pants. And I’m kind of a big lady… Well, not that big.”
That could mean anything, but Evan wasn’t about to cancel based on her looks when he hadn’t even seen her. Anyway, he was no prize himself, with the acne scars and the glasses. And now he had this all figure out, at least. One David or the other had given him her number, and he had probably been too shy to call, but now it wasn’t too late after all.
On Friday he was nervous, of course. His work clothes would do for a restaurant date, but he couldn’t do much about his hair. And what if she didn’t show up at all? It might be a relief, but also embarrassing. He was in that place all the time by himself, so often that the waiters knew his usual order, and it would look pretty bad if he said he was waiting for someone and they never arrived.
But Friday night at eight, when he walked in the door, there was a woman standing there in a while blouse and black pants. She had long red hair, and she wore glasses herself but they were a little classier than his. He could see why she said she was big, but he would have said “voluptuous” or what his friend Mike used to call “zaftig.” And she was out of his league… except she was there to see him.
“Michelle?”
She smiled, and shook hands with him. “It’s great to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Now he was wondering what he was supposed to talk about. He could only hope she wouldn’t ask him how he knew David.
The waiter seated them.
“Do you go out for Indian food a lot?” he asked her.
“Yes, but I’ve never been here,” Michelle replied.
“They know me here,” he confessed.
“You’re single then?”
“Well, sure, I asked you out…” Had he just said the wrong thing?
Then she did bring up David, but only to say she knew him in college. Even knew better than to ask which college. In fact, she had some anecdote about it, one of the usual stories about drunkenness in a dormitory, but the way she told it made him laugh. It still didn’t give him enough clues to figure out who she was talking about, but she didn’t ask him how he knew David after all.
“So, do you… like movies?” he asked. OK, that was just dumb. He wasn’t even going to take her to the movies tonight, not this late, and he wasn’t even so into them himself.
But she only smiled and said she did, and brought up a few films he’d never heard of. “Foreign films,” she said.
“I guess I never saw them,” he muttered.
“Maybe you should!” There was something about the way she said it, and the way she smiled, that made him think she liked him a little already. When he talked about a few common Hollywood movies she didn’t seem to think less of him for liking them, though he had the impression she didn’t see movies like that.
They ordered food and she turned out to be the type who liked to share, and the type who didn’t mind hearing about his work at the furniture store. Actually, he himself thought his job was pretty boring. Sometimes couples came in and fought about decorating though, and that was both funny and depressing.
She didn’t seem to want to talk about her job much. Evan didn’t like to pry, but he didn’t want to come off as one of those men who only wants to talk about himself either. But she did listen, and he tried to listen too, and it seemed to work somehow.
“Did you grow up here in Washington?” he asked her at one point.
“No, I... didn’t.” The expression on her face made him sorry he asked. If she had stuff she didn’t want to talk about, he would drop the subject.
So, she didn’t want to talk about herself. That was OK; that could come later if there would be a later. All he could think was that this was going exceptionally well. It wasn’t much like his last date, but then he could barely remember his last date.
“Have you been single a long time?” she asked him.
He almost said “Forever,” which was essentially true, but then covered up for it with “Quite a while.”
“I haven’t had a boyfriend in a long time either. It’s really nice to get out and meet someone I like.” When was the last time he’d heard something like that? Possibly never. She reached for his hand across the table and held it. “Do you live near here?”
Could she really mean that she wanted him to take her home? The way she was looking at him, the way she was touching his hand… He wasn’t so good with social signals, or women, or people.
“I live down the block. We could walk there from here if you…”
Michelle nodded, and when they had paid he led her out the door. She didn’t mention anything about her car; maybe she had left in the parking lot. Could she leave it there all night? But what was he thinking; she wasn’t going to spend the night. At least, he doubted she wanted to take anything that far on the first date. Still, walking beside her on the way home, she took his arm, and he felt a shiver.
Fortunately he had cleaned the place, even though he hadn’t anticipated this. He even had coffee to bring her as she sat on his couch. At this point he was out of small talk, but still reluctant to ask her the personal questions she’d been deflecting. But then she kissed him, and he had something else to think about. He wasn’t exactly shocked that she did it, but he was worried about messing up, about taking things too far, about everything. In the end though, it seemed natural, the way she tasted, the feel of her lips, the way she sighed a little when he pulled away to look into her eyes.
He kept kissing her, pulling her closer to him, trying not to interrupt this with speech. Then he found himself lying underneath her on the couch, looking up into her eyes, which he suddenly realized were green just like his.
Evan was sure he had no condoms in the apartment. He could run out to the store… but would it be horrible to do that, to ask her to wait for him there alone? That didn’t seem to the way it happened in the movies, and this whole night wasn’t much like real life… well, not his real life. But either way she was burying her face in his neck now and he was pretty sure he was going to have to do something about the condom situation soon.
Then it hit him how ridiculous this all was. He didn’t even know her last name and he hadn’t even been telling him the truth. Maybe it didn’t matter, if he had a little fun and she left in the morning but he wasn’t the “little fun” type of person, was he?
He slid out from under her gently and sat up. “I’ve been lying to you. Well, not exactly lying. I found your number in my wallet, and … I guess someone named David did give it to me but I don’t remember who.”
She only smiled. “That’s what you always say.”
“What?”
“There’s no David… or if there is, I don’t know him either.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
Was this woman crazy after all? It figured.
“Evan… don’t make me say it.”
“Don’t make you say what?” he asked. He should get her out of here; he should call the police, he—
“Last time I was Joanne, and I was a little thinner, and I had blonde hair, but we had a good time. We got a little further than this, I think.”
He closed his eyes. “No, no, no. I didn’t imagine you. Not you. We were in the restaurant. You ordered food. The waiter saw you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little daydream, Evan.”
“I’m not… you’re here! I’m touching you!”
She stroked his face. “Of course you’re touching me. You can do whatever you want. I’m a very real dream, aren’t I?”
“You’re not a dream. You knew David and he gave me your number but there’s something wrong with you and now--“
“You’d rather have a crazy woman in your living room than a pleasant little interlude with me? Well, that’s up to you I suppose.”
He put his hands over his eyes. “Stop it!”
“You think, therefore I am…”
Michelle was still touching him, but he refused to answer, and when he opened his eyes she was gone.
“She was real, and she walked out the door. I’m going to call David. Every damn David, and ask what the hell he was thinking.”
He opened his cell phone, but there was no David, no one he recognized at all. Just someone named Adrienne, and a number he had never dialed. Evan shut the phone, and curled up in a ball on the black and white couch. He wasn’t going to think anymore, and he wasn’t calling anyone else tonight.
Day/Theme: January 30/the formula defining the concept of existence
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Evan/Michelle
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,104
Evan found the phone number in his wallet as he was paying for dinner. It was just a number and the name “Michelle.” The paper was old and creased as if he’d been carrying it around for a while. He had no idea what it meant. If he had met a woman by that name he couldn’t remember it, and he should have put the number right into his cell phone. It wasn’t as if he met women all the time, and the lack of a last name indicated it was personal.
When he got home it was still only eight o’clock, plenty of time for a phone call. But he still wasn’t certain he should call at all. Whoever she was, she probably wouldn’t be too impressed to hear from someone who didn’t remember who he was or where he had met her, and he doubted he could fake it very well. Still, this was a woman, who had apparently wanted him to have her number at some point, and it seemed wrong to just throw it away. Finally he decided to just call. With a little effort maybe he could manage to avoid sounding completely creepy.
“Hello?”
“Is this Michelle?” he asked, his mouth slightly dry with nervousness.
“Yes…”
“This is Evan Stone.”
“Oh! David said you might call. But that was a long time ago.”
That sounded like he hadn’t actually met her after all. Evan knew a couple of guys named David, but neither one was likely to want to introduce him to a woman. But it must have happened, even if he couldn’t remember it. He wondered which David she meant, but now he could hardly ask “David who?”
“You’re the furniture salesman, right?”
“Yes,” said Evan. Did that mean this was business after all? But he worked in a store; no one ever called him up to talk about furniture.
“Um… what do you do?” he asked her, not sure if it was the right kind of question at all.
“I’m in pharmaceuticals. So… Dave said you like Indian food?”
That was true, and now this sounded like this was definitely supposed to be some kind of blind date. So presumably she was single. Of course, he had no idea why anyone had thought he might be interested in her, or she in him, but she had a nice voice and Indian food was a place to start.
“Yeah, I love it. There’s a really good place down the street from me…” He was moving way too fast, but if they stayed on the subject of what David said he would be in trouble.
“Maybe we could get together for dinner then?”
Evan swallowed hard. “Sure! Are you free Friday at eight?” He gave an address. Now he was wondering what she knew about him, or thought she knew, if she had agreed to this so easily. And what was he supposed to know about her?
“All right!” she replied, sounding cheerful.
“How will I recognize you?” He almost panicked after he said it. Was he supposed to know what she looked like?
“I’ll be wearing a white blouse and black pants. And I’m kind of a big lady… Well, not that big.”
That could mean anything, but Evan wasn’t about to cancel based on her looks when he hadn’t even seen her. Anyway, he was no prize himself, with the acne scars and the glasses. And now he had this all figure out, at least. One David or the other had given him her number, and he had probably been too shy to call, but now it wasn’t too late after all.
On Friday he was nervous, of course. His work clothes would do for a restaurant date, but he couldn’t do much about his hair. And what if she didn’t show up at all? It might be a relief, but also embarrassing. He was in that place all the time by himself, so often that the waiters knew his usual order, and it would look pretty bad if he said he was waiting for someone and they never arrived.
But Friday night at eight, when he walked in the door, there was a woman standing there in a while blouse and black pants. She had long red hair, and she wore glasses herself but they were a little classier than his. He could see why she said she was big, but he would have said “voluptuous” or what his friend Mike used to call “zaftig.” And she was out of his league… except she was there to see him.
“Michelle?”
She smiled, and shook hands with him. “It’s great to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Now he was wondering what he was supposed to talk about. He could only hope she wouldn’t ask him how he knew David.
The waiter seated them.
“Do you go out for Indian food a lot?” he asked her.
“Yes, but I’ve never been here,” Michelle replied.
“They know me here,” he confessed.
“You’re single then?”
“Well, sure, I asked you out…” Had he just said the wrong thing?
Then she did bring up David, but only to say she knew him in college. Even knew better than to ask which college. In fact, she had some anecdote about it, one of the usual stories about drunkenness in a dormitory, but the way she told it made him laugh. It still didn’t give him enough clues to figure out who she was talking about, but she didn’t ask him how he knew David after all.
“So, do you… like movies?” he asked. OK, that was just dumb. He wasn’t even going to take her to the movies tonight, not this late, and he wasn’t even so into them himself.
But she only smiled and said she did, and brought up a few films he’d never heard of. “Foreign films,” she said.
“I guess I never saw them,” he muttered.
“Maybe you should!” There was something about the way she said it, and the way she smiled, that made him think she liked him a little already. When he talked about a few common Hollywood movies she didn’t seem to think less of him for liking them, though he had the impression she didn’t see movies like that.
They ordered food and she turned out to be the type who liked to share, and the type who didn’t mind hearing about his work at the furniture store. Actually, he himself thought his job was pretty boring. Sometimes couples came in and fought about decorating though, and that was both funny and depressing.
She didn’t seem to want to talk about her job much. Evan didn’t like to pry, but he didn’t want to come off as one of those men who only wants to talk about himself either. But she did listen, and he tried to listen too, and it seemed to work somehow.
“Did you grow up here in Washington?” he asked her at one point.
“No, I... didn’t.” The expression on her face made him sorry he asked. If she had stuff she didn’t want to talk about, he would drop the subject.
So, she didn’t want to talk about herself. That was OK; that could come later if there would be a later. All he could think was that this was going exceptionally well. It wasn’t much like his last date, but then he could barely remember his last date.
“Have you been single a long time?” she asked him.
He almost said “Forever,” which was essentially true, but then covered up for it with “Quite a while.”
“I haven’t had a boyfriend in a long time either. It’s really nice to get out and meet someone I like.” When was the last time he’d heard something like that? Possibly never. She reached for his hand across the table and held it. “Do you live near here?”
Could she really mean that she wanted him to take her home? The way she was looking at him, the way she was touching his hand… He wasn’t so good with social signals, or women, or people.
“I live down the block. We could walk there from here if you…”
Michelle nodded, and when they had paid he led her out the door. She didn’t mention anything about her car; maybe she had left in the parking lot. Could she leave it there all night? But what was he thinking; she wasn’t going to spend the night. At least, he doubted she wanted to take anything that far on the first date. Still, walking beside her on the way home, she took his arm, and he felt a shiver.
Fortunately he had cleaned the place, even though he hadn’t anticipated this. He even had coffee to bring her as she sat on his couch. At this point he was out of small talk, but still reluctant to ask her the personal questions she’d been deflecting. But then she kissed him, and he had something else to think about. He wasn’t exactly shocked that she did it, but he was worried about messing up, about taking things too far, about everything. In the end though, it seemed natural, the way she tasted, the feel of her lips, the way she sighed a little when he pulled away to look into her eyes.
He kept kissing her, pulling her closer to him, trying not to interrupt this with speech. Then he found himself lying underneath her on the couch, looking up into her eyes, which he suddenly realized were green just like his.
Evan was sure he had no condoms in the apartment. He could run out to the store… but would it be horrible to do that, to ask her to wait for him there alone? That didn’t seem to the way it happened in the movies, and this whole night wasn’t much like real life… well, not his real life. But either way she was burying her face in his neck now and he was pretty sure he was going to have to do something about the condom situation soon.
Then it hit him how ridiculous this all was. He didn’t even know her last name and he hadn’t even been telling him the truth. Maybe it didn’t matter, if he had a little fun and she left in the morning but he wasn’t the “little fun” type of person, was he?
He slid out from under her gently and sat up. “I’ve been lying to you. Well, not exactly lying. I found your number in my wallet, and … I guess someone named David did give it to me but I don’t remember who.”
She only smiled. “That’s what you always say.”
“What?”
“There’s no David… or if there is, I don’t know him either.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
Was this woman crazy after all? It figured.
“Evan… don’t make me say it.”
“Don’t make you say what?” he asked. He should get her out of here; he should call the police, he—
“Last time I was Joanne, and I was a little thinner, and I had blonde hair, but we had a good time. We got a little further than this, I think.”
He closed his eyes. “No, no, no. I didn’t imagine you. Not you. We were in the restaurant. You ordered food. The waiter saw you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little daydream, Evan.”
“I’m not… you’re here! I’m touching you!”
She stroked his face. “Of course you’re touching me. You can do whatever you want. I’m a very real dream, aren’t I?”
“You’re not a dream. You knew David and he gave me your number but there’s something wrong with you and now--“
“You’d rather have a crazy woman in your living room than a pleasant little interlude with me? Well, that’s up to you I suppose.”
He put his hands over his eyes. “Stop it!”
“You think, therefore I am…”
Michelle was still touching him, but he refused to answer, and when he opened his eyes she was gone.
“She was real, and she walked out the door. I’m going to call David. Every damn David, and ask what the hell he was thinking.”
He opened his cell phone, but there was no David, no one he recognized at all. Just someone named Adrienne, and a number he had never dialed. Evan shut the phone, and curled up in a ball on the black and white couch. He wasn’t going to think anymore, and he wasn’t calling anyone else tonight.