Food For Thought - Blind Date 12 of 31

Food For Thought

The movie theater's Premier level was supposed to be 21+ only, and yet, the attendant simply waved Suzi through without carding her. Never mind that she was old enough to be there legally; it still bothered her that they'd be so lax in their security. Maybe the besuited, though not bespoke, guy standing at the podium atop the stairs took one look and immediately liked her enough to give her a pass. Or maybe he assumed - wrongly, too - that she was here for Ophelia. Nothing against that movie, certainly not when the beautiful Daisy Ridley was involved, but today her date revolved around the cinematic presence of a different nerdy-cute Brit: Tom Holland. Though who was to say no adult could enjoy Far From Home? And who was to say that no adult could do so without drinking, no less?

Suzi was thrilled that today's blind date made it a point of saying he never got drunk at the movies. In her experience, those who did so, did so purely to snark their way through the whole thing. Ironic assholes.

"Suzi?"

She looked up at the sound of her name, and the sight of her date stopped her breath cold for just a second. Could this tall white brunet be considered a hipster? He lacked a hat - by necessity on this summer day, cloudy but humid as hell. His shirt looked vintage but clearly wasn't, not when it had a quote from a book not even half a decade old emblazoned on the chest. (Though it gave Suzi no small pleasure to see that he publicly bore the tagline of Crooked Kingdom on tight white fabric over his broad chest.) And his jeans looked fresh off the rack, or perhaps out of the package if he preferred to shop online. Either way, they were black as midnight and clung to his legs in a way that made her want to peel them off. Maybe later, though, if they didn't eat or drink too much before the movie and come out of it almost too buzzed and/or bloated to even walk.

Twelfth time the charm?

Suzi hoped so, because she was sick of this drawn-out version of speed dating. Why, oh why, had she agreed to this? Could she even negotiate her way out of this agreement by agreeing to see this guy again and getting her friends off her back?

But more importantly, could she even remember his name to save her life?

"Hi, Suzi," said the guy as he held out his hand. "I'm Rider. Rider de Sena. Nice to meet you."

Okay, there was that question averted.

They shook hands, Suzi wishing her grip was a little less clammy. Not that Rider's wasn't too - it was a hot day, after all - but she felt like she could've done with a stronger grip too. Resisting the urge to wipe her hands on her dress and ruin the true vintage purple paisley, she smiled up at Rider and said, "Oh my God, I'm sorry. You look just like-"

Rider's eyes fluttered behind his glasses. "Don't tell me. Dylan O'Brien?"

Suzi shook her head. "Grant Gustin."

He spread his arms joyfully. "I'll take that compliment!" Then he looked around the place, his eyes darting between the bar, the distant lounge, and the relatively small window of the food-service counter. Not that it was a tiny hole in the wall, but it looked barely big enough to service two customers at a time. "So, uh...you wanna get food? I know your OKCupid profile said you drank socially, but-"

"But who wants to watch a Spider-Man movie drunk, am I right?" Suzi cut in. At least there was that reason, and not the fact that she'd maybe had a little too much at the wedding reception she'd been to the night before. Date number 11, about which she didn't want Rider to know.

Rider, mercifully devoid of telepathy, shook his head and kept to the subject at hand. "Only a total dickhead. Pardon my French."

Could he be any more amazing? And yet Suzi feared that somehow Rider would prove himself too good to be true. Too many dates she'd had, had done exactly that. More than she could count on two hands, even before her friends convinced her to try this month of blind dates. In one of the longest months of the year, no less. Why couldn't it at least have been January when it was cuffing season? Not to mention cuddling. But it had been either this or take off work a little earlier than usual and hit the beach, and after eleven days of dates, Suzi felt that she wasn't flush enough to justifiably miss even an hour of wages.