Dennis caught up to me in the coffee line at the usual time. I'd stopped worrying about my presentation at this point, though I still ran through it in my head on the off chance that I'd get it right.
"Working hard or hardly working, my friend?" he asked, putting his arm over my shoulder. "You gotta take it easy. I don't know how you keep that smile on your face working the hours you do."
"I don't know what's got you grinning like a loon today," I said back.
"I have plans tonight with this cute chick whose number I got on the train the other day."
"Do I know her?" I asked worriedly.
"Nah, she's a senior at the university. She's a philosophy major. I think I'll have to pay."
"I bet she'll make good conversation."
"All philosophy does is talk about death. It's why I like Troy Bentley's podcast, you know, the one I was mentioning earlier. He cuts right through the—"
"I see Dennis the Menace is back!" Jordan called out, cutting his way in front of Dennis. I remembered that comparison Abby had made to Hannibal Lecter, though I couldn't see why he would be off-putting. I'd think a jack-of-all-trades like him who had all these other hobbies that kept his mind away from work would be successful and popular. I sometimes wished I were more like him.
"There's a line, my friend. Move it."
"What's the big deal? They aren't gonna run out of coffee. Don't listen to Troy Bentley, Mike. He's a grifter. I read on Reddit that he's been selling these bogus penile enlargement—"
"Male enhancement pills, Jordan, and they're necessary these days. There's estrogen in soy, and they put soy in everything these days. Read any ingredient label and you'll see 'hemolyzed soy protein' and all those carcinogens."
"We weren't actually talking about Troy Bentley. Dennis was telling me that he has a date tonight," I said. Jordan's eyes brightened.
"And let me guess: you got a doe-eyed college student's number somewhere, and you've worn your most expensive clothes to impress her."
"Right on, my compadre! I'm even wearing that watch I bought the other day," Dennis said, and he showed us his wrist. He often wore a watch, so I didn't think it was for a special occasion.
"If as soon as you see her, her eyes spin around in their sockets and go ding-ding-ding like a slot machine, you'll know it's love. I'll take a large latte and a khachapuri, please." He lingered a moment, waiting to see if either Dennis or the barista would react.
"Coffee. Black," Dennis grunted.
"So where are you taking her? Somewhere romantic?" I asked.
"Nostromo—you know, the swanky Italian place by city hall. I'm thinking that if it goes well and I order spaghetti, we can do the Lady and the Tramp thing."
"With you playing the role of the tramp, of course," Jordan interjected.
"I've always wanted to try that place," I said. "Is it busy on a Friday night?"
"Shouldn't be that busy. They had a lot of tables open around seven when I booked my reservation. I wanted to make sure we got a quiet corner of the restaurant with some candles, if you know what I mean." Dennis licked his lips. "Anyway, gotta go. Smell ya later."
Dennis marched off, leaving Jordan and me to fend for ourselves.
"Imagine if we crashed his date. I'd be kinda tempted if I didn't have my meeting," Jordan said.
YOU ARE READING
TGIF
General FictionMike Burbank, fresh out of college, believes that a cheery smile and bottomless drawer of fun socks is enough to keep him going at his new career at Infinitech. While all his friends find the work soul-sucking, Mike refuses to let his neighborhood f...
