Blind Date

by Debbie Ioanna

  “Right then, who’s next please?”

  15

  “He fancies you!” Sarah’s voice boomed at me down the phone when I called her that evening and told her all about my little gift from Zack. “He proper fancies you!”

  “It’s possible for someone to be nice without it meaning anything.” I was in the middle of hunting through my kitchen for something to eat. The gingerbread man was still in my bag. I decided to save it until my last cuppa before bed. “What if it’s a ‘pay it forward’ thing? I now need to go out and do a good deed to someone else.”

  “Helping a blind man cross a road is a good deed, dropping a heap of clothes at a charity shop is a good deed, buying you a tea AND a biscuit, as well as taking the time to write you a note, is a hint. A hint that he likes you. You need to ask him out.”

  “I don’t ask people out. That’s a guy thing. Anyway, if he liked me…”

  “Yes, blah blah blah he’d ask you out, the whole ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’ thing.”

  “It’s true though.” I slammed the fridge door shut. I was getting zero inspiration for tonight’s tea and getting very frustrated by my hungry belly.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah asked. “All I can hear is banging.”

  “Looking for something to eat. No matter how many times I look in the fridge, it’s still only milk, a bag of grated cheddar which is possibly out of date and a carrot.” I’m not sure how the carrot got there to be honest.

  “It’s Friday night, why aren’t you getting your Chinese?”

  “Erm, I’m going off it I think.” I hadn’t dared to tell her about my rendezvous with Dan last weekend and my flatulence issues brought on by left over Chinese food. No one needs to know about that. “Anyway, what can our codeword be for when I need an escape tomorrow?”

  “Gingerbread man.”

  “Maybe something a little easier to text to you unnoticed from under the table.”

  “Tea. That’s easy enough.”

  “Right, ‘tea’, so when I text you, you have to call me straight away! Promise me!”

  “I promise. What time are you meeting him? What’s his name again?”

  “Rob. And I’m meeting him at eleven o’clock at Costa. How romantic.”

  “It beats the time when Jason wanted to take you to McDonalds for a first date.”

  “Ha! Tell me about it.”

  I could just eat a Big Mac now. I opened the fridge again hoping the food fairy had delivered a freshly made lasagne or chicken pie or anything I could just throw in the oven to eat but, alas, the fridge was bare. It’s official, I am Mother Hubbard. “I don’t know what I’m going to eat. I’m starving.”

  “Have you got any bread? Just make some toast. Or, now this is a crazy idea, nip to the shop any buy something you can cook! You can’t go wrong with some soup.”

  “Soup? I can’t make soup, who do you think I am?” Is she crazy? I live off takeaways and left-over takeaways. I don’t know the first thing about making soup.

  “I think even your culinary skills stretch to buying a tin of soup and heating it in the microwave, Jenny. I honestly don’t know how you have survived living on your own all these years.”

  “I’m a walking enigma.” I checked the cupboards again.

  “Right Jenny, I need to go. I’ve got to get ready for this party at Max’s office. I might be texting the codeword to you at some point. Ring me tomorrow night and tell me all about this Rob fella.”

  “I’ll probably be texting you at quarter past eleven. Have a good night.”

  “You too, bye.”

  I hate being hungry. It makes me very grumpy. Which means if I don’t get any food down me by tomorrow then Rob will be texting his own friends to get him out of a disaster date. I attempted one final look in the freezer. There was some mince that I bought a year ago when I thought about attempting to make a cottage pie, that never happened. There was a bag of frozen vegetables from when I talked myself into healthy eating two years ago. I never quite got around to that, hence the unopened bag. I pulled them both out of the freezer to throw away and that was when I saw it. It had been hiding under the frozen veg. A pepperoni pizza. I am saved!

  16

  As I approached Costa Coffee I realised I had no idea what Rob looked like. Why didn’t my mother give me a full description of him? What if he doesn’t even turn up? Or, even worse, what if he’s the perfect guy and it’s my mother who found him for me? I’ll never be able to live that down. She’d never let it go either. She’d be so smug at the wedding.

  Town was always busy on a Saturday. I walked past mothers with unruly children, teenagers trying to look cool with their cigarettes and a homeless guy hovering by the entrance. I survived my walk in past the obstacles and looked around at all the tables. There were a few empty tables I could sit at, but I thought I’d best check for a single guy that could resemble a man waiting for a blind date first. I don’t know how I would spot him, what does an artist look like? Will he be covered in paint? Will he be carrying a paint pallete? Whatever he might look like, he definitely was not here yet. There weren’t any singletons at any of the tables. I glanced at the door and noticed the homeless man was staring at me through the glass. What was his problem? I spied an empty table hidden in the corner out of view of the homeless man so quickly made my way there out of his sight. What a weirdo.

  I decided that it would be rude to order a drink before Rob got here so I pulled out my phone and started browsing Instagram. There was nothing exciting to look at but at least it was passing the time. I don’t know what made me look up, but there he was, the homeless guy again. However, this time he was inside and looking around. What was he looking for? He caught my eye. He was looking for me. He sheepishly lifted his hand to wave at me. I kept my head down but it didn’t work, he started to walk towards me. Why do I never attract the Henry Cavills of the world?

  “Jenny?”

  How does he know my name?

  “Yes, can I help you?” I put my phone in my pocket in case he decided to snatch it.

  “I’m Rob.” He reached out his hand to shake mine.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Oh, hello.” I shook his hand before I spotted the state of it. They were moist with sweat and stained with muck and his fingernails were a vile shade of yellow. The rest of him was not any better. His black, greasy hair was shoulder length and very dishevelled. Half of it was resting on his shoulder and the other half was up in a man bun. I don’t believe in northern men having a man bun, it just didn’t look right. His jumper was something else completely. It resembled something that a grandmother would knit for you for Christmas that you would only wear on the day to be kind and then put it in the back of the wardrobe as soon as you could. It was multicoloured and multi-damaged. I lost count of the number of holes it had. Why would someone wear such a thing on a first date? And what was that smell? It was like a combination of broccoli and eggs.

  My mother has done this on purpose. She has decided that I have left it too late for a decent man so have to end up with the dregs, like at the bottom of a tube of Pringles when all that is left are the broken ones. I don’t deserve a full Pringle.

  “Do you want a coffee then?” he asked, with very little enthusiasm. I had to hold my breath as the broccoli and eggs aroma hit my defenceless nostrils. I leaned backwards to get as far away from it as possible.

  “Erm, please. Mocha. Small. Thanks.” I had to rub my hand over my nose to help me to open my mouth and speak to him. I didn’t want to breathe in any of the air that surrounded him.

  I pulled out my phone, time for my saviour Sarah to call me with an emergency. I typed ‘tea’ into a message to Sarah ready to hit send as soon as Rob sat down opposite me. I wished I had found a bigger table for us. This small, round table meant we were sat too close together.

  As soon as I saw him pick up the tray of drinks and head back towards me, I hit ‘send’ and left my phone on the table so he could see that I was getting a
genuine phone call and that I was not faking it. Now all I had to do was wait. It shouldn’t be too long, and then I could make my quick getaway.

  “It’s not cheap here is it? Here you go.” He lifted my cup by the handle and placed it in front of me before taking his seat opposite. I would have to avoid that handle now.

  “Thank you.” That jumper was really disgusting. If anyone was to look at us now, they would think that I was his support worker. And to think, I was panicking this morning thinking I would be late as I had to quickly rush to change my tights because the first pair had a ladder in them. I should have avoided tights altogether and left my stubbly legs on display. We’d look a bit more suited then.

  “This is different, I don’t often go on dates.” Shocking. He lifted his drink and loudly slurped his coffee. “Ahhh, that’s hot.” He looked up at the window behind me and squinted. “Do you mind if we move somewhere else? The light is really blinding.”

  “Oh,” I looked behind me at the tiny window, “erm…”

  “It’s just that my house is really dark because of Draco and Severus. They don’t like it too light, you see. So being out like this really hurts my corneas.” As he squinted his eyes and screwed his face up, I noticed his last few remaining teeth were almost brown.

  “Why don’t we just swap sides?” I could see there were some seats at the back of the coffee shop, but the last thing I wanted was to walk down there and be seen with him. At least here we were kind of hidden.

  We both stood up to swap sides before I realised that this clever idea of mine meant I would be sitting where he had already sat. As I held my breath to pass him, I looked at the plastic chair which already had a tiny sweat mark on it. He quickly sat down whilst I delayed sitting for as long as possible, hoping the sweat would dry up quickly. Why hadn’t Sarah called me yet?

  “Thanks. That’s much better.” He picked up his cup and took another loud slurp. “This stuff is always expensive, don’t you think? It would’ve been cheaper to make you a coffee at my house.”

  “Well,” as tempting as that sounds, “it’s nice though, isn’t it? There’s always a nice atmosphere in here and, well, you can’t beat the coffee.”

  “Yes, you can, it’s seventy-nine pence for Tesco’s value coffee, a full jar. Do you know what this just cost me? I could’ve bought ten jars for what I’ve just spent in here.”

  “Do you want me to pay for my own? I can give you the money for mine.” I reached down to pick up my bag. The strap was touching his leg. I saw his brown, chord trousers were also full of holes. There was an odd stain going up his leg. I would have to burn this bag as soon as I got home.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I’ll just have to pick up another shift at Burger King to stop myself going into debt.”

  “So,” must change the subject, “my mum tells me you’re an artist. What’s that like?”

  “Yeah, I paint things. Mostly Draco and Severus.”

  “You’re a Slytherin then, are you? I’ve always liked Gryffindor, bit of a cliché but you can’t help loving the heroes.” He stared at me, blankly. Did I just speak in Chinese?

  “What do you mean?” How does he not understand me?

  “Draco and Severus, they’re in Slytherin, aren’t they? You must love them if you paint only those two characters. Do you every paint anyone else from the films?”

  “Eh?”

  Seriously, am I speaking another bloody language?

  “You’ve seen Harry Potter, haven’t you? You must have done if you’re painting two of the leading characters?”

  “Harry Potter?!” He let out an almighty snort of a laugh. It made me jump. A few people around us stared. “Harry bloody Potter. I’ve been called many things but a Harry Potter fan? Don’t insult me.”

  “So why the hell are you painting two of the most important characters from the whole bloody series?” Come on Sarah, hurry up! I glanced down at my phone, but the black screen was staring back at me.

  “Draco and Severus are my snakes!” Duh, how could I not know this... “Draco means ‘serpent’ in Ancient Greek and Severus means ‘stern’ in Latin.” My Ancient Greek wasn’t perfect but, damn, I clearly needed to brush up on my Latin too. “It’s nothing to do with those films.”

  “The books are actually really good, you should give them a try.” I had to defend my favourite wizard. I’m not ashamed to admit that I am still waiting for my Hogwarts acceptance letter.

  “I don’t read.” He stared at me intensely as he said those words, not even blinking. “It’s all a conspiracy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, it’s all a plot.” He leaned back in his chair and his expression turned deadly serious. “The government want to brainwash us you see, make us read these books to sway us into thinking a certain way, living a particular life, to fall in line.”

  “Oh,” suddenly I was wishing that we were sat in the middle of the coffee shop after all, in full view so I had plenty of witnesses to protect me, “I didn’t realise that authors were being paid by the government in order to coerce us to ‘fall in line’.” I wonder what part of an eleven-year-old boy going to wizarding school has to do with the government. I hope J K Rowling got paid enough to create such a deceptive government weapon.

  “They all work for the government.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “There are spies everywhere. Even in here, there are hidden cameras and microphones everywhere, spying on us, listening to every word we say.”

  I don’t know why I looked around for these hidden cameras, this guy was insane. If Sarah didn’t call me soon then I would be fearing for my life.

  “So, erm,” I was at a loss for words. I needed to change the subject before MI5 stormed Costa to arrest him. “Do you have any other pets?”

  “No, they were taken away from me by the RSPCA. Another government led operation. I had more snakes, but they were really intelligent. The government found out and took them off me. They were scared, you see, that I’d train them up and bring down parliament.”

  “Erm… ok.” I was waiting for the punchline, a laugh, anything remotely human.

  “I’ll find the cameras. They’re in my house somewhere. I don’t know where, or how many there are, but I’ll get them.”

  I lifted my cup, avoiding the handle that he had touched, and took a long sip of my drink. This had to be a dream. Either that or I was being pranked somehow. Sarah was going to jump out of a cupboard and shout ‘Gotcha!’ any moment now. I took a deep breath before placing my cup back down to resume this date.

  “So, you work at Burger King? What’s that like?”

  “Monotonous. But it pays the bills.”

  “I’ve never been a fan of Burger King. McDonald’s, though, I do love their cheeseburgers.”

  “Pah!” he said, loudly. A woman was about to pass us with her young daughter at the time. She put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and led her a different way, so they would not have to walk directly past our table. “McDonald’s.” He was shaking his head.

  “Let me guess, another government organisation?”

  “Exactly. They put chemicals in the food. It’s mixed in with the oils, so the burgers and chips absorb them properly. Then you eat them, and it makes its way into your system permanently. The food is all rotten, but you wouldn’t know, because of the chemicals making you think you’re enjoying what you eat.”

  “Well… Ok then.” I was flabbergasted. I can’t say that I didn’t make an effort with conversation on this date.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He stood up and walked down to the toilets. I watched as people stood to one side as he walked past them to make sure they wouldn’t come into contact with him. Then their expressions changed as they were hit by his smell. I used this opportunity to pick up my phone and call Sarah.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Sarah? What the hell?” I angrily whispered. “Where is my emergency phone call?”

  “Shit, I’m
sorry! I thought I heard my phone bleep in my bag but I’ve been busy. Was it really bad then? Are you on your way home?”

  “No, I’m still here. He’s just gone to the gents. It is awful. Seriously. I would go on a second date with Gerard if it meant I could get out of this one. Will you bloody phone me so I can leave?”

  “Yes! Yes, I will. When do you want me to call you?”

  “Give it two minutes, then make sure you call me.”

  “I will, I will, I’m so sorry!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Bye.”

  I quickly put my phone back down on the table in time to see him walking back over. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was the type of guy who washed his hands. For some reason, I doubted it very much.

  As soon as he sat down, I could smell the eggs and broccoli again. It seemed stronger than it was before, like it was seeping out of his skin. He must have seen the look on my face.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I just had an odd whiff of something. I can’t put my finger on what it is.” I didn’t know how else to tell him that he stank.

  “It’s probably these you can smell,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle, I couldn’t tell what it was. “I’ve got them for Snape and Severus.”

  I looked closer, wondering why he was carrying balls of string in his pocket and why they would appeal to snakes. And then I saw that one of the balls had eyes and whiskers.

  “You’re carrying mice in your pocket?!” I jumped back in my seat. “Why are you carrying mice?”

  “Don’t worry, they’re dead so can’t harm you.” He laughed.

  With his other hand he picked one of them up by the tail and hung it in front of him. He looked like he was going to eat it. I realised that he will have had them in his pocket before he got here. He would have handled them before I shook his hand. I suddenly felt very sick.

  “I have to go.” I reached down and grabbed my bag from under the table.