Saved by Fire
BF prompt: Baptism by Fire; All that Jazz
BF Week: October, Week 1
Word Count: 852 words
Author's Note: part of a larger work
Saved by Fire
When bradfromNC messaged me on the site, my hopes had soared once again. He wasn’t the first guy to message me, but he was the most decent of the recent communicators. His username seemed decent, as did his profile and picture so I messaged him back. There were no warning signs standing out to me.
We messaged for a couple of weeks before he finally asked to meet me. I was starting to wonder if he was even interested in anything offline when I received the message: I really think this would be easier if I could see you in person. What do you say to an evening of dinner with me? I was so excited to receive the invite that I forgot a key factor - dinner dates give you no quick escape. I should have suggested something else.
A few days after the message, I found myself sitting across from an average-looking 32 year old wondering where I went wrong in my dating life. How did I end up on a bad date with an out-of-work accountant while my baby sister was planning her wedding to her dream guy?
“That was when I decided I just couldn’t work for the firm anymore,” he said in his monotone voice. I was playing with my chopsticks to keep me awake while we waited for our food. All I had to do was suffer through the food and I could leave.
“Because your boss asked you to cover someone else’s customer while they were out of town?” I asked for clarification. I was trying my best to seem interested, but I couldn’t figure it out. Why would someone quit their job over something so trivial, especially in this economy?
“Yes. I already had enough on my workload,” he replied, looking at my hands. “Do you think you could stop playing with the chopsticks?”
“Sure,” I replied, looking down at my hands. I secretly wished for the food to arrive. “How long has it been since you quit?”
“Three months,” he replied, swirling the ice in his cup before drinking some water.
“No luck finding a job?” I asked, still trying to piece it all together.
“Nah,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’ll happen when it happens.”
“What if it doesn’t happen?” I asked. I tended to be a realist - always living in the realms of possibilities, both good and bad.
“G’day,” the wait said, approaching our table with the tools necessary to start a fire and the ingredients needed for our meals. Brad had chosen one of the restaurants that prepared the food in front of you. At least I was going to get a show out of the meal.
“Hello,” I replied, trying to be polite. I could hear Brad continuing our conversation with “it’ll happen” beside me.
The waiter started the fire and began adding food to the top of the grill. I watched in amazement as he prepared our food right in front of us. I had always wondered what one of these restaurants would be like. As he finished different parts of our meal, he added them to our plates. The food was tantalizing and I was enjoying getting it hot off the grill.
It was the vegetables that went wrong. Another waiter called over to ours with a problem. Apparently the other grill wasn’t starting up like it was supposed to and our waiter seemed to be the expert. He stepped away from our table for a few seconds. I picked up my napkin to dab at my face and set it back down.
“So, then I told him that there was no way I was - ” Brad was still droning on about his work (or lack of work) and I tuned him out to look around at the restaurant. Happy couples were everywhere enjoying their food. I wished to be like them.
I turned back to the table and looked around. Instead of a happy date, I was stuck with Brad who could only focus on his job and a lot of extra smoke. Smoke? I looked in front of me and saw that the smoke was in fact coming from the fire that had started on the grill. My napkin had apparently landed on the grill when I set it down.
The rest of the evening was a blur of rushing waiters, upset restaurant goers, and more job talk as the fire exploded on our table. The fire itself wasn’t so bad, but the smoke caused by the burning vegetables and other items was pretty harsh on the eyes. The restaurant ended up ushering us out to the parking lot. It took a half hour to clear the place of smoke and even then it still stunk.
When we finally did arrive back inside, I finished my now cold food from my plate and listened to more job talk. To add insult to injury, Brad asked me to pay since he was out of work at the moment. He said he’d call and I climbed into my car thinking that I won’t answer if he does.
BF Week: October, Week 1
Word Count: 852 words
Author's Note: part of a larger work
Saved by Fire
When bradfromNC messaged me on the site, my hopes had soared once again. He wasn’t the first guy to message me, but he was the most decent of the recent communicators. His username seemed decent, as did his profile and picture so I messaged him back. There were no warning signs standing out to me.
We messaged for a couple of weeks before he finally asked to meet me. I was starting to wonder if he was even interested in anything offline when I received the message: I really think this would be easier if I could see you in person. What do you say to an evening of dinner with me? I was so excited to receive the invite that I forgot a key factor - dinner dates give you no quick escape. I should have suggested something else.
A few days after the message, I found myself sitting across from an average-looking 32 year old wondering where I went wrong in my dating life. How did I end up on a bad date with an out-of-work accountant while my baby sister was planning her wedding to her dream guy?
“That was when I decided I just couldn’t work for the firm anymore,” he said in his monotone voice. I was playing with my chopsticks to keep me awake while we waited for our food. All I had to do was suffer through the food and I could leave.
“Because your boss asked you to cover someone else’s customer while they were out of town?” I asked for clarification. I was trying my best to seem interested, but I couldn’t figure it out. Why would someone quit their job over something so trivial, especially in this economy?
“Yes. I already had enough on my workload,” he replied, looking at my hands. “Do you think you could stop playing with the chopsticks?”
“Sure,” I replied, looking down at my hands. I secretly wished for the food to arrive. “How long has it been since you quit?”
“Three months,” he replied, swirling the ice in his cup before drinking some water.
“No luck finding a job?” I asked, still trying to piece it all together.
“Nah,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’ll happen when it happens.”
“What if it doesn’t happen?” I asked. I tended to be a realist - always living in the realms of possibilities, both good and bad.
“G’day,” the wait said, approaching our table with the tools necessary to start a fire and the ingredients needed for our meals. Brad had chosen one of the restaurants that prepared the food in front of you. At least I was going to get a show out of the meal.
“Hello,” I replied, trying to be polite. I could hear Brad continuing our conversation with “it’ll happen” beside me.
The waiter started the fire and began adding food to the top of the grill. I watched in amazement as he prepared our food right in front of us. I had always wondered what one of these restaurants would be like. As he finished different parts of our meal, he added them to our plates. The food was tantalizing and I was enjoying getting it hot off the grill.
It was the vegetables that went wrong. Another waiter called over to ours with a problem. Apparently the other grill wasn’t starting up like it was supposed to and our waiter seemed to be the expert. He stepped away from our table for a few seconds. I picked up my napkin to dab at my face and set it back down.
“So, then I told him that there was no way I was - ” Brad was still droning on about his work (or lack of work) and I tuned him out to look around at the restaurant. Happy couples were everywhere enjoying their food. I wished to be like them.
I turned back to the table and looked around. Instead of a happy date, I was stuck with Brad who could only focus on his job and a lot of extra smoke. Smoke? I looked in front of me and saw that the smoke was in fact coming from the fire that had started on the grill. My napkin had apparently landed on the grill when I set it down.
The rest of the evening was a blur of rushing waiters, upset restaurant goers, and more job talk as the fire exploded on our table. The fire itself wasn’t so bad, but the smoke caused by the burning vegetables and other items was pretty harsh on the eyes. The restaurant ended up ushering us out to the parking lot. It took a half hour to clear the place of smoke and even then it still stunk.
When we finally did arrive back inside, I finished my now cold food from my plate and listened to more job talk. To add insult to injury, Brad asked me to pay since he was out of work at the moment. He said he’d call and I climbed into my car thinking that I won’t answer if he does.