Donuts to Cats

The Blind Date

This short story contains three parts, each with a different point of view- the girl, the guy, and the bystander. Enjoy!

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Girl's perspective

Ding Dong.

The doorbell rings. I dash to the door, pausing by the tiny mirror to check my makeup (I'm sweating, I'm nervous!). What if he's really hot? What if we go on a second date? Could this turn into a long-lasting relationship? These thoughts and questions float around in my mind as I put on a bright smile and open the door.

Standing in front of me is someone that makes me freeze in my tracks, do a double-take, and have to remember how to breathe again.

So much for a hot guy.
He's hideous.

His face is greasy, and his black hair is kind of shaggy and very obviously uncombed. He attempted to shave, it seems, but he either missed a few spots or is bad at shaving. Probably both. His dark blue and grey plaid shirt is crumpled and has a yellow pin attached to it. Yippee Comics. Oh yippee, he's a comic book obsessor. He's wearing light colored jeans (what is this, the 90's?) with a hole in the knee. And to top it all off, he has shoes on that resemble crocs.

I remember it's rude to stare, so I blink twice and put my shoulders down and back.

"Um, hi. I'm Jeanette."

"I'm Jim. How are you?" He has a really odd voice, as if he's never really gotten his voice box through puberty and it's stuck half-way.

At least he's polite.

"I'm alright."

"Great. I have a neat restaurant in mind, do you like noodles?"

"Sure." I smile feebly.

"Great again. Let's go!"

We hop in his car, an obnoxiously bright orange bug that seems to glow in the dark. I really hope I don't see anyone I know on this date from heck. Or maybe the date from the comic book store.... The small back seat is littered with candy wrappers and assorted bags of stuff. He sees me eyeing the stuff, and quickly replies, "Oh yeah, I just got all that great merchandise from ComicCon two weekends ago. Haven't put it away yet."

ComicCon? Oh boy.

The drive is no more than 10 minutes, but it feels way, way longer. He rambles on the whole time, talking about his comic store job, his cat (which I think is named Catman, never really figured it out), and almost anything else. He exaggerates a lot, one of my pet peeves, and I can tell he's just boasting. I probably only get eight words out the whole time, which include "cool," "okay," and "fun."

Finally, we're pulling up into the parking lot of The Noodle Factory. We get out, and Jim pulls his keychain out from his pocket, which is loaded with miscellaneous shiny figures from comic books and movies. He presses a button, and the car locks with an odd bloop noise.

"Ready?" He asks with a big goofy smile.

"Yeah," I say breathily.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder awkwardly as we stroll to the front entrance of the restaurant. I want to duck and get out of his grasp, but I stick it out.

The automatic doors open, and we are met by the ever-present murmuring and dish-clanking that you'd expect in an eatery. He struts to the service stand and announces "table for two!" Then he winks at the waiter. He smiles hesitantly, caught off guard my my date's excited manner, and then writes something down in the stand. I roll my eyes at Jim's comment, and the waiter almost gives me a pitiful look. He walks away, and Jim whisks me to the benches in the waiting area.