Seriously Messed Up: A Laugh Out Loud Romantic Comedy

by Luke Young

  “You don’t have to, um—”

  “First they put this thing up your butt,” he interrupted. She tipped back her glass and enjoyed a healthy sip, preparing for the worst as he continued, “Then they inflate a balloon back there.”

  She replied softly, “I…I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, they do that to hold it in place. It’s so uncomfortable.” He thrust another fistful of fries into his mouth.

  “I know,” she replied, glancing away awkwardly.

  “Really, have you had one?” He shot her an incredulous look.

  “Of course not.” She waved a hand at him. “I mean it sounds uncomfortable.”

  “I tried to go to the bathroom beforehand, but I couldn’t.”

  After emptying her glass, Anne lifted her gaze in a desperate search for their server.

  Anyone really.

  “I was really gassy afterward.” Picking up three long fries, he swirled them around the plate pressing errant red seasoning into them before shoving them into his mouth.

  “Hmm.” Anne shot him a nervous smile and scanned the room again for their server. When she finally located Ashley, she held her glass up wearing a wide-eyed, desperate expression.

  Taking hold of his mug, he slurped up the bottom of his lemonade. Then for an extra five seconds he loudly sucked up every last drop. After skewering the lone berry from inside with a fork, he plopped it into his mouth then mumbled, “Want your fries?”

  “What?”

  “Your fries.” He pointed to her plate.

  “No.”

  He pulled the fries over and covered them with seasoning. “You should really try them.”

  “No thanks.”

  The server dropped off another glass of wine for Anne and a strawberry lemonade for her ravenous date. Anne went to work on her wine as he continued devouring fries. She made the mistake of looking at him and caught him crook a finger into the side of his mouth, dislodging a large chunk of hastily chewed potatoes.

  Covering her face with her hand, she nearly dry-heaved. “So, you must really like those…” She stopped speaking when she noticed the expression of anguish on his face highlighted by the huge bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. “Are you okay?”

  He sat up straight and placed his hands on the table as a belch rumbled up from his distended belly. His face contorted before his lips parted slightly and he blew out the side of his mouth. Grimacing, he pounded a fist into his chest twice. “Uh-huh.”

  “Good,” she grumbled halfheartedly, turning away and scowling as she sipped from her glass.

  Picking up four fries, he prepared to shove them in his open mouth but stopped short. His face turned a pale white. He paused a moment then his eyes got huge. “Um, I’ll be right back.”

  She watched as he hurried away toward the bathroom. After ten minutes when he had not returned, she ordered a glass of water, which arrived with their meals. Sitting uncomfortably at the table alone, she picked at her food and sipped her water. When he finally showed up a few minutes later looking white as a ghost, he said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Maybe we can do this another time.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he had already turned and started waddling away leaving her alone and, more importantly, stuck with the check.

  She exhaled, exasperated.

  This dating thing was not beginning well.

  No, not at all.

  When she spotted her distressed date outside the restaurant window, hightailing across the parking lot, a smile spread across her face. She covered her mouth and broke into a giggle. Checking the time, she pulled her phone from her pocket and went on Facebook. She spotted her friend Melanie active and typed a message:

  Anne: My date was a disaster.

  Melanie: What happened?

  Anne: Long story… What are you doing tonight?

  Melanie: Nothing really.

  Anne: Want to see a movie? Brooklyn starts in an hour.

  Melanie: Yeah sure. Where are you?

  Anne: Flannery’s – meet me at the bar.

  Melanie: Okay see you soon.

  2

  After paying the check and leaving a generous tip, Anne headed to the bar and climbed onto a stool. Other than a middle-aged couple enjoying a drink across the bar, it was empty. Suddenly a tall, attractive young man appeared lugging a case of beer. “Sorry. I’ll be right with you.”

  “No hurry. I’m still deciding.” She waved her hand at him while making a face.

  Feeling the effects of the wine she’d already consumed, she considered having another glass of water or switching to coffee. Considering the date she just endured and the movie theater within walking distance, water probably wasn’t going to cut it. With at least three hours before she needed to get behind the wheel, she decided to let her hair down for the first time in many months.

  “What can I get you?” He stood before her in a tight black Polo shirt, his bulging biceps and perfectly chiseled chest on display; the total opposite of her recent date.

  Her eyes lingered a little too long on his chest.

  He flashed a suggestive smile. “I can offer you pretty much anything.”

  “What?” She met his gaze.

  “We have beer, wine, mixed drinks, daiquiris or any kind of frozen drink. I can even make you something exotic if you want.”

  “I’ll take a glass of your house Riesling.”

  “You got it.” He pulled a bottle from the wine refrigerator, grabbed a glass and poured. “This is your third glass, right?”

  “What?” She looked at him puzzled. “How did you know?”

  “It’s been a slow night.” He poured then recorked the wine.

  “Okay.” She grinned, placed her finger to her chin and pointed to a couple sitting across the restaurant. “That woman over there with the red top. What’s she drinking?”

  “Um…” He glanced to the woman before returning to Anne, wearing a guilty smile. “I don’t know.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said it was a slow night.”

  “Well, let’s just say I noticed you and not just because of the disparity between you and your date. Sorry.” He cringed, lifting his hands up in surrender. “Maybe you weren’t on a date, and this is obviously none of my business.”

  “No, you’re right. I was on a date. First date. Internet date.” She rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine.

  “No disrespect to your friend, but unless he’s a billionaire, there is something very wrong in the universe.”

  She chuckled. “He didn’t seem to be anything like his profile. Not that looks are that important to me.”

  “It should be a little important.” He cocked an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. Sure, but—”

  “Sorry, I’ll be right back,” the bartender said, spotting a man across the bar with his hand raised.

  He headed off, and Anne sipped from her wineglass before pulling out her phone and checking Facebook updates. When the bartender returned, he noticed her nearly empty wineglass and asked, “Another glass?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “You seem to be a big fan of this wine.”

  “It’s so good,” she began. “This is your house wine?”

  He pulled the bottle out again then looked left and right before leaning close to her. “Don’t tell anyone. But I opened this bottle of Smith-Madrone.”

  “Never heard of it.” She studied the label. “It’s delicious.”

  “Our house Riesling is kinda crappy.”

  “So you’re out of the house wine?”

  Grinning, he motioned for her to keep her voice down. “You trying to get me fired? I have tuition to pay for.”

  “No.”

  “I’m kidding.” He poured her another glass. “It’s only like two dollars more per glass. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It will be our little secret,” she said.

  After washing a mug in the sink, he dried it with a towel and sho
t her a skeptical look. “So, you’re actually Internet dating. You? Why?”

  “Divorced.” She raised a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just wanted to try it.”

  “Gotcha.”

  After an awkward couple of moments of silence, he said, “I’m Brett.”

  “Anne.” She took another sip. “Nice to meet you.”

  “What happened to your date? He rushed out of here pretty quickly.”

  “That he did. He, um, wasn’t feeling great. I think he had a few too many fries.” Her eyes bugged out of her head.

  “Really. Wow.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, they are all you can eat.”

  “I know. Bottomless. It’s pretty much all he talked about. That and his prostate.”

  “What?” He chuckled, his eyes widening.

  “Never mind.” She waved her hand at him.

  “We are sorta famous for the fries.”

  “Somehow I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. You might want to check with the kitchen because he ate a lot of them. You could be out.”

  He shook his head, fighting back a smile. “No, we generally stock up.”

  “I mean, I like fries as much as the next person—but everything in moderation.”

  “Not everything.” He flashed a sexy grin.”

  “Okay.” She giggled. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about our famous lemonade drinks,” he began with a smile. “We have strawberry and raspberry, and they are also bottomless.”

  “He was enjoying those too,” Anne grumbled.

  “I know, I was your bartender, remember?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that either.”

  “You know, you are much too beautiful to be divorced. Tell me you left him because he was an ass.”

  She made a face. “He was an ass, but no, I didn’t leave him. He, well, he cheated. He sort of came clean and asked for a divorce all in the same conversation. Not that I would have taken him back anyway.”

  “What a jerk,” Brett said.

  She nodded in agreement. Her cell phone chimed. She checked the message then frowned, typing her reply.

  He said, “Don’t tell me your day suddenly got worse.”

  “My friend was going to meet me to go to the movies, but now she can’t.”

  “Sorry. You have another friend you can try?”

  “Probably not with this short notice. It starts soon.”

  “What movie?”

  “Brooklyn.”

  “What time?”

  “Ten ten.”

  He clicked his teeth. “I’d offer to go with you, but I don’t get off till eleven thirty. Is that where you and your date were heading after dinner?”

  “We were going to the movies.” She continued with a distasteful expression, “But we were going to see the new Star Wars movie.”

  “Really.” He lifted a just washed mug and placed it on a shelf. “Somehow, I don’t see you as a Star Wars girl.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “So basically, the bottomless fries saved you from a not so perfect date and seeing a movie that would’ve probably put you to sleep.” He wiped the bar as he flashed her a sexy smile. “Also, you know, you never would have met me.”

  “I guess you could look at it that way,” she replied, pushing her nearly empty wineglass away. “Now, I don’t know what to do. I never would have had so much wine. I thought it would be hours before I was driving.”

  He asked, “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He walked out of the bar area and came back with a steaming mug.

  “Thank you.” She blew into it and took a sip.

  “Is there a later showing?” he asked.

  “Seriously, you want to see Brooklyn?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone, but I sort of have a soft spot for romantic movies.”

  Pulling her phone from her purse, she clicked on the app. “That was the last showing.”

  “How about Star Wars instead?” He chuckled.

  “You must be one of those comedian bartenders.”

  “I try to keep my customers entertained.” They shared a smile then he cocked his head. “You could go by yourself.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Right.” He clicked his teeth. “How about this. Stick around here for a while. If you feel ready to drive home, you can. If not, when I get off I’ll, um, give you a ride or follow you to make sure that the police don’t chase you down or something.”

  “I couldn’t put you out like that.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, in fact, it’s my duty to make sure all my customers make it home safely.”

  “Oh, really?” She tucked a loose hair behind her ear.

  “Well, only the ones who are recovering from bad Internet dates.”

  “That’s good to know,” she began. “I might just have to take you up on that. Let’s see how it goes.”

  After returning with a second mug of coffee and a basket of the restaurant’s delicious and stomach-filling fresh baked rolls, the young bartender and slightly older divorcee continued conversing, laughing, and flirting.

  At closing time, Anne remained at the bar while Brett finished cleaning and wrapped up his shift. Just after eleven forty-five, he walked Anne toward her car in the parking lot. It was raining lightly, and she looked skyward with a frown.

  She stumbled a bit, and he took hold of her arm to steady her. “How you feeling? Are you up to driving?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Suddenly the rain grew heavier. He pulled the key fob from his pocket and unlocked his car. “My car’s right here.”

  She hurried toward the passenger side, and he followed her over, opening the door and closing it after she slipped inside.

  Rushing to the driver’s side, he climbed in and brushed the raindrops from his muscular arms. She watched him as she squirmed nervously in her seat. “Can we just sit here a minute?”

  “We can.” Placing his hand on the steering wheel, he glanced down at her thighs in her tight jeans. Steadily the rain picked up-tempo, pounding loudly on the car.

  She grumbled, “This is great.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “How?”

  Across the parking lot, he spotted a crowd of nerdy looking men rushing from the theater toward their cars. “I’m guessing that’s Star Wars letting out. You would have been the only woman.”

  Looking toward the theater, she squinted as she pointed out the rain-dotted window. “I think that’s a woman.”

  “Correction, one of two women running from the theater and possibly hiding from the rain with your date, Mr. Bottomless Fries.”

  She giggled. “I guess you’re right.”

  He turned to her. “I’d really like to see you.”

  “You’re seeing me now.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I mean, like take you out sometime.”

  “I think I’m old enough to be your, your…” She made a face.

  “Don’t say mother.” He scrunched his face up.

  “I wasn’t going to say mother.”

  “Let’s say…youngish aunt.”

  “Okay.” Anne cringed slightly, turning toward him.

  He raked a hand through his hair, grinning. “I sorta had a thing for my aunt at one time.”

  “Really? That’s a little creepy.”

  “You haven’t seen my aunt.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Still. How old are you?”

  “How old are you?” he asked defensively.

  “I asked you first.”

  “Does it really matter?” Placing a hand gently on her chin, he raised it until her eyes met his.

  She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “I guess, in the scheme of things, it really doesn’t.”

  He kissed her. It started softly at first. Then the passion rose between them, with his
tongue sliding into her mouth and hers following back. As it turned the corner toward a full make out session, she pulled away from him. She placed her hands in her lap, exhaling deeply. “Seriously, how old are you?”

  “I’m, uh…”

  “Geez, if you say nineteen, I’m going to lose it.” She recoiled in horror.

  “No.” He covered his face with his hands and laughed. “I mean, I have to be at least twenty-one, you know, working behind the bar.”

  “Of course.” She blew out a long, slow breath then turned to look him in the eye.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” She turned away shyly.

  “I’m serious.” He moved closer to her, and she raised her gaze to his again. His lips parted as he leaned forward closing the gap between them. They kissed again. He placed his hand carefully on the back of her neck. His strong fingers sent bolts of electricity through her body and directly between her legs.

  She trembled, pulling back from him. “What are we doing?”

  “It sorta feels like we’re making out in the parking lot in the rain.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Running her fingers up his muscular arm, she stopped at his shoulder. “I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time.”

  “I’d never have known.” He looked deeply into her eyes and added softly, “You are really, really good at it.”

  “Thanks.” She moved her lips to his and wrapping her hands around his neck, kissed him hard. He slid his hand around her back. She lifted her leg over him, climbing onto his lap as he pulled her into his seat. She settled down on him with her knee pressed painfully into the door on one side and the steering wheel poking her in the back. She couldn’t have cared less.

  His hands wandered down to her ass, and she gasped. She could feel his erection pressing into her, hard.

  She moved her hips slightly over him, enjoying the sensation of his parts being so close to hers.

  “Oh, God…” She settled down into him harder. If it wasn’t for all the clothes separating them, he’d be inside her now.

  Filling her.

  Filling the void that’d been there for so long—even longer than the last time she’d slept with her husband.

  A lot longer.

  Brett slid his hand down over her ass, and he curled his fingers up pressing hard on her jeans right at her spot. She pulled her lips away from his and moaned, letting her neck flop back as she muttered, “Oh.”