He called the house and my parents handed me the phone.
“Be nice," they said.
Nice. Ugh. I don’t want to be nice. I’ve been trying to avoid this creep for weeks, hoping he wouldn’t ask me out. He makes my insides twisty. He looks at me weird. His breath smells like mothballs.
If he asks me out, I’ll have to say yes. I can’t tell him no. No is rude. I just keep hoping he won’t ask.
I told mom and dad he makes me feel uncomfortable and they handed me the fucking phone? I shook my head, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, “Hello?”
“Hello, Madge. It’s Brian. I’m so pleased to have caught you at a good time to chat.”
His voice was deep and lacked any sort of nuance. He sounded like a recalled stuffed animal with a pull-string.
“Hi, Brian.”
If he couldn’t hear the eyes rolling in my voice, he’s an even bigger idiot than I thought.
“I would like to go to breakfast with you. I have been meaning to ask you this for quite some time now, and I’m delighted it will finally happen. Tomorrow. 9 am. Breakfast.”
“Um… I, uh…”
Fuck.
Deep breath.
“OK, sure. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Brilliant. You’ll need to come pick me up at 8:30. I am without a car.”
Are you fucking kidding me? I have to go pick him up? The idea of his guy being in my car makes me want to throw up. I don’t want to go to breakfast with him. I don’t want to pick him up. I don’t want him in my car.
“OK. I can do that.”
He gave me his address and I didn’t sleep a wink all night.
At 8:25 the next morning, I drove down a dirt road I had never been down before. It was heavily shaded by weeping willows on both sides, and became darker and darker the further I drove.
Weeping willows is right. All I want to do is cry right now.
The trees soon cleared, and off to the right I saw Brian standing outside of a small ranch-style brick home, holding a movie theatre box of Skittles. He was wearing a sweater vest over a blue button-down, and pleated khakis. His hair was dramatically parted on the left and meticulously combed to the right.
I drove a bit closer and he didn’t make an effort to walk towards my car. He stayed right by the door.
I rolled down my window, and he simply stood there—clutching the red rectangular candy box at his chest with both hands.
“Hi. So, um… are we going to breakfast?”
“I’d like that, yes.”
He stood still, like he was expecting me to get out of my car and come to him. And as much as I wanted to drive away, I knew I couldn’t. Driving away wouldn’t be nice. But I was not getting out of my car. I kept hoping he wouldn’t ask me in.
So I sat. I sat in what felt like a tortuous hour of silence. Defiantly holding onto the one thing I had control of in this situation. My hands stayed on the wheel. My foot stayed on the break with the car still in drive. My heart was pounding.
A minute or so passed and he changed his expression to a smile. He walked over with a gait much lighter than his stance had been moments before.
I unlocked the door and he slid into my white Passport, holding the box of Skittles.
“These are for you.”
“Oh, um. Ok, thanks. Yeah, that’s really nice of you.”
He placed the box on the dash and I drove up the road.
“You ever been to Bob Evans? I love that place. Let’s go there.”
I’d always been a nervous driver. I have a terrible sense of direction if I’m even the slightest bit distracted, and I was nothing but distracted. His eyes darted around my car as if he was trying to find something he misplaced.
“Yeah, sure. We can go there. It’s just up there off exit 25, yeah? By the Country Inn?”
He nodded and played with the radio dial, settling on 104.7. Faith Hill, “This Kiss” was midway into the second verse.
All I wanted was a white knight
With a good heart
Soft touch, fast horse
Ride me off into the sunset
Baby, I'm forever yours
He puts his hand on my right shoulder and his thumb massaged my skin on the last line. I kept my eyes on the road but I could feel his burning my skin.
I love this song. I do not love this song right now.
He turned the radio off.
“Madge. I am very excited for our date. You’ve made me a very happy boy.”
I wanted to ram my car into this Jeep in front of me. Instead, I just smiled and nodded and pulled into the Bob Evans parking lot. I’ve never been here before. It was just before 9 am on a Wednesday and there were 3 other cars in the parking lot.
The hostess sat us in a table in the middle of the dining room. Brian ordered a coffee and I ordered a grapefruit juice.
When the waitress came with our drinks, Brian took the menu from me and put his hand on mine. He looked up at the waitress who looked about as happy to be there as I did. I wondered if I could speak to her through girl magic and tell her I do not want to be here… and if she could maybe spill that coffee on his khaki pleats, that would be great.
“My lady and I are going to have the Cinna-biscuits, the Blue Ribbon bacon, and the Sausage Gravy and Biscuits. She will also be needing a fresh glass of juice, as this one is smudged.”
He kept his hand on mine while the other shoved the juice glass in her face.
“Oh, no. That’s ok, I don’t need another—”
“Madge. Hush. You deserve only the best.”
The waitress popped her gum and walked away. His hand is still on mine and I’m struggling to find interesting things to stare at in the dining room. There are 2 other tables I can see in here. A elderly couple, and a family with a toddler in a high chair.
He babbled on about his student film and quoted “Armageddon” while he mouth-murdered the Cinna-biscuits. He had cinnamon sugar all over his already chapped lips. And while normally I’m the person who tells a stranger they have spinach in their teeth… this was my one win.
The waitress delivered our check after clearing the table. She placed it in the center of the table, and Brian made no move to grab it. It stood there, propped up in its little black folder, untouched, for several minutes while Brian kept doing Billy Bob Thornton impressions. I’m already creeped out by Billy Bob Thornton, I do not need Brian’s help on this.
I paid the check. Brian said nothing about it. I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
We walk towards the car and as I reach for my keys in my purse, Brian grabs my arm.
“We’re going to go on a walk now.”
We are in a parking lot. Next to a hotel. Next to a highway. Where the hell are we going to walk?
“Oh, I think I really need to be getting back home. Maybe some other time?”
“No. I want to go on a walk now. Let’s take a drive and I’ll tell you where we’re going to go. It’s my favorite walking place. Very quiet and private. You’ll love it.”
Every single cell in my body told me to run to my car and drive way. Or run back into the restaurant.
“I, um, I don’t think I have time. But another day would be cool.”
He moved in closer. Cinna-Mothball breath. Sugar crust lingered on the corners of his cracked lips.
“I want to go on a walk with you now. I brought you a gift. We are on a date. And the date is not over until I say it’s over.”
His face changed in that moment. This was the face that was standing outside his house before he got in my car. I will not go on a walk with this man. I will not go on a walk with this man. Damnit, how do I not go on a walk with this man?
I clutched my keys inside my purse and didn’t move. I looked back towards the restaurant, and then over to my car. I was closer to my car… but he was also closer to my car.
“Hey, listen, Brian? Let’s go back inside instead. Maybe just sit and talk for awhile? I’d love to hear more about your student film.”
His face shifted and his shoulders relaxed a bit. He backed up a little and reached out for my hand, “Let’s get your Skittles first”.
Fuck.
“Oh, I was hoping to save those for later! Maybe on our next date we could share them? On that walk? Or maybe on the way back to your place?”
He paused for a moment, let out an exhale, and grinned.
“That sounds nice. I love Skittles. I’d love to share them with you.”
We walked towards the restaurant, my hand stuck inside of his. His grip tightened and I could feel my knuckles pop. We sat at a table in the back. No one else is in the restaurant.
“I have to use the restroom. I’ll be right back,” I stand to leave and he grabs my arm.
“I want you to sit down, Madge.”
He forces me back down in the chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see our waitress staring. She starts to walk over.
“Is everything ok over here?,” she looks only at me.
“Um… yeah. Actually, could you tell me where the restroom is, please?”
Brian’s eyes darken. I pull my arm away.
“Sure, sugar. It’s right down here. I’ll show you.”
He started to stand.
“I’ll be right back. I promise,” I reached out and touched his hand. He softened.
I followed the waitress to the restroom by the kitchen.
We rounded the corner, now out of sight, and I tell her that I don’t feel safe or comfortable. I start to cry.
“Come with me.”
She pulls me through the kitchen and takes me out by the dumpsters.
“Go. He gave me the creeps all morning, too. Listen to your instincts, sugar. I’ll handle it. Go.”
I run to my car, fiddling with the keys on my way, and close myself in. I’m shaking now. I can’t stop crying. I start the engine and back out of the spot. In the rear view mirror, I see Brian running towards me with the waitress not far behind. I lock my doors, put the car into drive and speed through the lot towards the exit.
He’s still running behind me. I cross over into the Country Inn lot and as I take a sharp turn, the box of Skittles slides from across the dash and lands in my lap. A sharp pain pierces my thigh.
What the hell.
I grab the box with one hand while the other is on the wheel, and there’s blood on my hand, and a tiny tear on the box. I roll down my window and toss it into the lot. In the mirror, I see it burst open and instead of little rainbow candies… little, sharp metal objects scatter across the lot.
Brian stops when he sees it.
The last thing I see as I finally make it to the highway is Brian crouched down in the lot with his head in his hands.
The next morning I get in the car to drive to work and Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” comes to an end.
Fuck Armageddon, man.
The radio host comes through.
“Breaking news… A wanted man was taken into custody early this morning after authorities found surgical tools, rope, and Flunitrazepam—a drug sold under the brand name Rohypnol—in his home. The suspect is wanted in 4 states for assault and sexual misconduct...”
I pull over to the BP around the corner and run inside. The local news is on behind the counter. Brian’s face is on the screen. He’s wearing the same clothes he was wearing yesterday. His face is dark. There’s still sugar in the corners of his mouth.
I stand there, stunned. My body feels cold.
The clerk behind the counter looks up from his want-ads, “You need anything? There’s a sale over there on Skittles.”
I looked him right in the face.
“No”.
@Esoterik Espionage tjank you❤️
Aww. @Justin Smith ❤️