The First Date #blogbattle #shortstory

These fierce blog battles are organised by the one and only Rachael Ritchey, author of the ‘Beauty Thief’. If you think you are tough enough to compete come and join us!

The word this week is spaghetti

Here is this week’s Blondewritemore entry.

 The First Date

Are you ready to order now?” asked the waiter smiling at me first and then at Dan, my new date.

Dan gave me a nod to order first.

Please can I have the Chicken Cacciatora?” I asked the waiter, who scribbled down my order on his pad and then turned to Dan.

I will have the spaghetti bolognaise please” ordered Dan before flicking his sun kissed curly locks away from his handsome face, in a model like pose. My heart raced at the mere sight of him.

In my head I thanked God for a.) creating something as beautiful as ‘Dan’  b.) putting someone like Dan on my online dating app and c.) for using his divine powers to get Dan to ‘wink’ at someone like me (nearly 40, still single and receiving daily emails from my mother containing links to useful articles such as ‘Your chances of getting a grandchild with a single daughter in her late 30s).

My mind wandered away from my mother to my phone conversation with my best mate Hannah minutes before Dan had turned up at the restaurant. Hannah’s last words were “the perfect man does not exist Jane” to which I replied “he does and he’s just got out of a taxi”.

My heart started to race as Dan focused his attention back on me. He held my gaze with his exotic sea blue eyes. I stared back at him hoping he was receiving my telepathic message “you are so hot!”

To my surprise he leant over the table towards me and said in what can only be described as a sexy growl “You look amazing tonight Jane!” 

His chiselled cheek bones and thin pink lips close up made me gasp and purr “what’s it like to be beautiful?”

We sat in silence and gazed longingly at each other. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the girls on the table opposite drooling at Dan and I found myself protectively edging my chair closer to him.

He smelt of deserted tropical beaches and tanning oil. I tried to stop myself from imagining him in some tiny speedo beach trunks but it was too late, the picture arrived in my head instantaneously. I soon felt the heat of a blush on my cheeks.

What are you thinking about gorgeous?” he said giving me a seductive smile. Fiddling with my hair I let out a little giggle and whilst looking directly at the girls on the table opposite I mouthed “back off he’s mine!”

Until our food arrived he fed me olives with a tooth pick and stroked my hand. As we lifted up our cutlery I thanked God again for sending me male perfection.

I watched him load up his fork with a mountain of spaghetti bolognaise. He noticed that I was looking at him and gave me a little “grrrrr“, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

As he lifted the fork, piled high with food, to his lips I wondered whether his lust for me had given him a large appetite. Was I that much of a catch to the opposite sex? Maybe I was? It’s at these special moments in life that a girl sees herself in a different light.

Dan tried to shovel his fork full of food into his mouth and spectacularly missed. He started to munch away on what little food had entered his mouth, oblivious to the fact that his chin was coated in spaghetti and sauce.

I gestured with my fork that there was something hanging off his chin. To my horror he winked at me and carried on eating. In my head I reassured myself, Dan was probably embarrassed by the fork failure and was simply riding out the humiliation. 

I watched as he piled on another massive amount of food and shoved it into his messy mouth. Spaghetti stragglers fell onto his lap and lumps of bolagnaise tumbled like boulders down his white shirt.

My appetite evaporated as I watched the contents of Dan’s open mouth go round and round like my washing machine on a spin cycle. Again I gestured with my fork that there was something (half his dinner) around his mouth but he just grinned and carried on eating.

The girls on the table opposite had noticed and I felt the heat of shame as they pulled faces of shock at the sight of Dan’s eating habits. I knew what they were thinking – how could something so beautiful look like a pig at a trough in a restaurant?

In my head I prayed to God that this was all a bad dream and that soon I would wake up in my bed, in my flat. I tried pinching myself in a bid to wake my sleeping self up but it was no use. This situation was very real.

I looked up at Dan again who was stuffing more and more food into his mouth. It was at this point that I realised I was going to have to make a life changing decision – do I turn a blind eye to his messy eating habits or do I make an excuse and walk away from the most handsome man on the planet? 

Dan and I had not even kissed yet and walking away felt like I was depriving myself of something amazing. My mind flicked back to the picture of Dan in those tiny speedo beach trunks. For a moment I was prepared to stick with him and give him the lessons on eating that his mother had obviously skipped when he was a child.

Dan looked up and gave me one of his sexy low growls making all the spaghetti cling ons around his chin wiggle with excitement. The decision was sadly made.

Sighing loudly I got up, shook my head disapprovingly at him, gave him my share of the food bill and left the restaurant.

As I stepped onto the street I called Hannah and reluctantly told her that she was right again about the perfect man not existing.

I then took out my phone and edited my dating app profile to say ‘no messy eaters please!’.

 

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photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/7897906@N06/10000066526″>Spaghetti with eggplant and sausage</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

 

 

 

33 thoughts on “The First Date #blogbattle #shortstory

  1. Dating pet peeves: eating with your mouth open, smacking lips, licking food droppings of the table cloth, asking me if I am done with my plate within five minutes, and cleaning your teeth at the table.

  2. Pingback: #BlogBattle Week 16 “Spaghetti” Entries & Voting | Writing Rachael Ritchey

  3. Ohmygoodness, this was great! πŸ˜€ ❀ My fave part:
    He fed me olives with a tooth pick and stroked my hand. As we lifted up our cutlery I thanked God again for sending me male perfection."
    Male perfection must exist somewhere, right? I must find it! *determined face* πŸ˜‰

  4. πŸ˜€ Had me laughing through the whole read. Loved the lettered mental list, and the email from mom. LOL!! I don’t care how gorgeous one is, speedos…just aren’t. lol.

  5. That Dan guy made my stomach turn. Urgh. I can’t stand messy eaters. Seeing someone’s food in their mouth…. again, urgh. A good story of fabulously bad first date. I think she made the right decision in walking away.

      • I can put up with a little bit of mess.My brother’s not exactly a ,clean eater, but I cope with it. Besides, I’m messy in most things I do. I’ve just baked some cake and have both flour and cocoa powder on my t-shirt. I think it’s a vice I can overlook. πŸ™‚

  6. haha! no messy eaters! LOL That must have been terrible to have to decide. How does one reconcile the two? Oh dear. Oh, poor dear. I’d have waited around to see if he mopped up his face at the end with a loaf of bread. . .

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