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A Date for Dinner The Boyfriend of Your Nightmares...

#1 User is offline   Bond Icon

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Posted 30 July 2007 - 11:06 PM

I wrote this ages ago, back in 2004, but I think it's still good. Here, for your reading pleasure, A Date for Dinner. blush.gif



I’m just about used to the Muzak they play in the supermarket. It might be annoying to some, but, for me, it’s wormed its way into my heart.
As if I even had one.
Tonight, Paul Simon softly crooned as I pushed my cart down the laundry bleach aisle, looking for some Shout. It was late here in Drysdale, and I was worried the store was all out. I silently scanned the shelves.
Crash!
I turned my head, anger giving way to amusement as my eyes caressed the clumsy girl who’d crashed into my shopping cart.
“Oops,” she giggled, her lips stumbling over the words. “I-I’m so sorry.” She brushed back her wheat-colored hair, and her blue eyes smiled in embarrassment.
“No… no, no need to be.” I smiled back at here, giving her the impression that all had been forgiven.
“Oh, thank goodness.” Interesting. She was turning out to be more foolish than I thought. “But, if there’d be any way to repay you…”
“Just your name, m’lady. Just your name.”
“Who, me?” She laughed. “Oh, um, I’m Margaret van Hawthorne.” She added, “But most people call me Maggie.”
“Alright then, Maggie.” I pointed to myself. “I’m Drake Uller.” I studied her. She was perfect. A bit wiry, but perfect. I started walking her to the checkout aisle.
“And tell me, Maggie,” I spoke again, “what brings you to Drysdale?”
“Oh, Drysdale,” she smirked. “Well, uh, I’m here to live with my cousin, Marissa. You know her from around town, don’t you?”
I certainly did; old Marissa had died a year ago, and people were still speaking of her terrible death, but I didn’t want to tell her yet. My chances with her were too perfect, and little white lies aren’t all that bad. I, of all people, through all the years, should know.
“Oh, yeah,” I told her. “You just arrived?”
She nodded. “Yeah, my mom just died and it’s just, you know, all so sudden, and…” She shook her head and sighed. “It’s just so hard, I mean, my mom was my life, and… just, just never mind. Anyway, my only family was my mom, my aunt, and my cousin. Both our dads ran out on our moms, and now our moms are both dead, and now… now, we only have each other.”
I nodded, pretending to offer my sympathies. This girl was it; I had known all along that she was the one. As we left the supermarket, I put my arm around her shoulders and asked her the fateful question I had asked Marissa: “Would you like to come over for dinner?”
She stared up at me hopefully. “Really?”
“Exactly.” I took a candy wrapper from my pocket, grabbed a pen from the lining of my weatherworn jacket, and wrote down my street and house number and the time tomorrow of dinner. “I hope you make it,” I smiled. “Dinner is always enjoyable with the f… I mean, company.” I waved good-bye. “See you soon.”
As I walked away, I heard the girl shout for joy. Which reminds me, I thought. I never got my Shout!


* * *


The doorbell rang just as I was putting on my tie. I am always quite irritable when I am hungry, and yelled at the door. I quickly cursed; for I knew that it was the girl. I slipped it through the loop, strode over, and opened the door. There she was; standing in the rain in her yuppie best. I flashed her a quick, apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, my dear,” I told the girl, and led her in. She was oh, so much like Marissa. Even her vague and distant end would be tied up just like her.
“Wow,” she was murmuring. “This is quite a nice place you’ve got here.” I knew she was lying.
“Here, let me get some drinks,” I grinned. I took a bottle from the closet, along with two cups, and poured the red liquid into the cups. I handed her one of the cups, and she started to take a sip.
“Wait,” I commanded. She stopped. “Just remember this, my dear: Many Italians suffered to give you this drink.”
She laughed, thinking I had pulled a joke.
This was no joke.
She took a sip and licked her lips. “Mmm,” she said. “It’s really salty.”
“Just the way you like it, my dear.” I stepped closer, getting a better view of her long, graceful neck.
There was a long and awkward silence.
“Well,” I started up, “if you’re ready then, how about dinner?”
“Sure, I guess,” she groaned. I was amused. She already had shattered hopes about tonight. She had thought this would be a night she would never forget.
She would have no idea how right first impressions could be.
I took a seat at the small, circular table next to the stove. The girl took a seat at the opposite end.
“So, what’s for dinner?” she muttered, staring at her shoes, glass clinking in her hand.
“You are, my dear.” She looked up, and I smiled, showing her my long and shining fangs.
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And once when you look death in the face.

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#2 User is offline   Slade Icon

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Posted 31 July 2007 - 12:03 PM

It's kinda cute and funny in a silly, almost campy sort of way. It's sad and interesting that Drake the Vampire starts the date with awkwardness instead of something classy before going right for the neck. I guess he spent too much time filing his teeth to get them the proper shape to work on his class for more than the pick up, since he can't be a real vampire, what with going out to the supermarket during that day. tongue.gif
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#3 User is offline   Deepsycher Icon

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Posted 31 July 2007 - 12:13 PM

Joke: How about writing A Demon for Dinner? Except the man is a demon and someone ends up on a dinner plate.

This post has been edited by Deepsycher: 31 July 2007 - 12:13 PM

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Posted 31 July 2007 - 06:00 PM

QUOTE (Slade @ Jul 31 2007, 12:03 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}>
I guess he spent too much time filing his teeth to get them the proper shape to work on his class for more than the pick up, since he can't be a real vampire, what with going out to the supermarket during that day. tongue.gif


Actually, he went out at night. I think the story mentioned that it was late; sorry if it wasn't prominent enough. blush.gif

And Deepsycher, I'm not too sure what qualities demons have. Besides, the title might be a little too obvious... wink.gif

Thanks for your input, though! happy.gif
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You only live twice:
Once when you're born
And once when you look death in the face.

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