Karl's life

I am going on a date tonight. I met her on an app a few days ago. We exchanged messages about a tattoo I have. I refer to the tattoo in one of my prompts because it instantly filters out anyone that would find that unattractive. She clearly didn’t.

This is my second date in two weeks. The first was on a muggy Wednesday evening. I chose the bar. It was one I stumbled into the week before to escape a sudden rain shower. There was a dark wooden bar and large windows that opened onto the street.

I sat at the far end and ordered a cold lager and stared straight ahead of me. As the rain continued more people joined, disheveled and grateful for cover. All of them are alone because rather than planning a night out, they had been forced in here by nature.

There was a brown haired girl in her mid-twenties. She was attractive and we held eye contact for a a few seconds before she sat down three seats away from me. She order a seltzer water with ice and then took out her book. At no point was I interested in what she was reading.

A guy then sat down between us. He was of South Asian decent and spoke with a strong American accent. His brand new sneakers, tightly cropped hair and expensive but poorly fitted t-shirt gave the impression of someone who worked too many hours to have good taste. He had clearly been here before and started talking to the bartender.

“I just got back from a business trip. All the way from Singapore with a stopover in London,” he explained.

He sucked down two deep glugs of his beer. The rain continued to rattle outside.

“How long until you have to leave again,” she enquired politely.

“Well I get to be here for a while until a trip to Disney Land in Florida with the wife and kids,” he let out a deep breadth as he said this.

“Oh no, that is hardly a holiday”

She then headed to the far end of the bar to serve an old man. He was the only person who had been there when I arrived. He was reading a paper and telling the bartender about his Italian heritage. She looked like she could be Italian, about forty, but her eyes were younger, and her long dark hair had no traces of grey. She placed another whiskey down in front of him before swinging back to the man next to me.

“It is awful, so sweaty and so many lines. I just do it for the kid,” he complained in a dismissive tone.

He slugged down the last of his beer, which he had drunk in less than three minutes, paid the bill and left. I thought about my family’s annual trip to Disney Land in Paris. My granny used to come with us and one night she was snoring heavily. My Mum who had been sharing a room with her came into my room to escape the noise and got into bed with me before I weed myself. If I didn’t use the bathroom just before going to bed this was guaranteed. My Mum didn’t get annoyed with me at the time and we laugh about it today.

The rain was starting to ease up and I asked for the bill. The bartender asked where my accent was from. I asked her how long she had worked here and gave a generous tip. I thought it would be nice to come here with an attractive girl. One that made me nervous, relaxed and confident at the same time. I invited a girl named Claire there with me the next week. That was the only date we would ever go on.

I hope the one tonight isn’t the last.