The Aftermath Of You

Chapter Seventeen

Rain poured against the windscreen. The taxi driver leaned forward with his eyes scrunched up, searching the horizon for any shape. "There it is up ahead. The Drunk Man's Arms."

In the distance Toni could see a pool of light. "Oh, great. How much is that?" She fumbled through her purse for coins.

"Thirty two dollars and fifty cents."

Toni stared at the driver for a short moment, debating whether he was a criminal or about to tell her she was on Candid Camera.

"This is quite a meat market," the taxi driver warned her. "Tuesday nights are speed-dating nights."

Toni inhaled deeply, hoping she sounded convincingly taken aback. "Wow, the desperate measures people go to!"

Pleased to find an agreeable audience the driver lurched onwards. "So many people these days end up dead in a ditch, and it's all thanks to these new fandangled things. Back in our day we didn't have Twatter or Facebook."

"I think it's Twitter."

"Twitter or Twatter, I really don't see the difference. They found a woman in the ditch last Sunday. With a broken leg. Lucky she wasn't dead."

Toni was shocked. "From speed dating?"

"No. She slipped on black ice." He took Toni's money and threw it willy nilly into his cash box. "I can't believe what's happened to the world. Everyone's talking about a recession and what we can do to save money. I say close down internet dating sites! If it weren't for these sorts of sites, less men would be in prison and less women in hospital."

"You're quite right," she conceded. "Don't worry about the change. You keep it. I'd best be off into-" She didn't bother to finish her sentence, as she'd already vaulted from the car.

"Mr Know it all

Well, ya think you know it all

But you don't know a thing at all

Ain't it, ain't it something, y'all?"

"Insightful lyrics." Toni smiled at the barman.

He stared at her in disgust, perhaps mistaking her sad attempt at humor for a heartfelt confession. Of course her ensemble wasn't helping to give her 'street cred': a long dress three sizes too large and the color of an old man's nose, which accentuated her stick thin arms and flat chest.

Toni tugged at the bodice. "It stretched in the wash. This fabric you know ..." She drifted off, hoping he would fill in the blanks.

"You're at table three." He pushed a glass of gin and lemonade towards her.

As she made her way to the correct table, a woman bustled into the room with a whistle around her neck. Blowing it vigorously she then started hollering: "ALRIGHT, EVERYONE, IF YOU COULD JUST SIT AT YOUR TABLE." All eight people began moving in unison.

Toni clocked her first date: Goggles. He'd obviously spent endless hours in the ski fields nearby until his face was bronzed to perfection with the exception of his white eyes and bridge of his nose.

They sat simultaneously.

"Do you ski?" he asked, not waiting for a simple introduction.

"I have." Not such a lie. She'd skied once or twice in her younger years.

"I've not seen you on the slopes."

"Well, I've been flat out, no time to ski these days."

"Big career?"