Sunday, April 15, 2012

Drabble Day 23


"This salad is way over-dressed," he huffs at the waiter. "And my water barely has any ice."

He hasn't said a single please or thank you since we sat. I take this as my cue.

Grabbing my purse, I smile at him.

"I wish I could say this has been delightful, Julian, but I can't. Lose my number, please."

I emphasize the last word, hoping he'll pick up on the reason I've decided to depart mid-meal. What a douche.

On the drive home, I call Ben, my bestie, and rehash all the details, wishing it had been him with me.

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