Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Bathroom Monologue: At Our Best

He set aside his entire evening. He spent half a month's salary on bribes to get them a table at the city's most exclusive restaurant. He bought her the best chocolates. He found her favorite wine, in its best year.

Nervous, he showered three times and used that cologne he couldn't stand, but that she said reminded her of the ocean. She loved the ocean. So he made sure that their table overlooked it.

He had his best suit dry-cleaned and held off wearing it for a month, saving it just for that night. He wore the tie she'd gotten him last year. He got a dozen black roses, and put them in a bouquet with a dozen white ones. In the very center, he placed a single, brilliant red rose. That bouquet sat on the middle of their table for two hours as he waited for her. She never came. At the stroke of ten, he looked out at the night city skyline. His jaw fell as he realized. He'd forgotten to invite her.

9 comments:

  1. Oops. I am also an over planner and he has my sympathies. Rather a lot of them.

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  2. No!!! That detail is a little important.

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  3. I love your surprise endings. I love that I never see them coming. (I know that SOMETHING is coming, but I never can figure out what it is going to be)

    Poor guy. Even as I am laughing at the end, I am feeling quite sorry for the fellow. I'm glad he didn't get stood up though... and that she wasn't dead (which was my theory throughout the piece).

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  4. Oops... oddly, I can picture myself doing the same thing. Ahh l'amour...

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  5. Oh dear. I can imagine him being nervous and thus putting off inviting her until he was better prepared, and then preparing SO MUCH that in his head inviting her quietly slipped from "to do" to "done".

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  6. Oops! Forgot the most important detail!

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  7. Lovely piece of writing John, thank you.

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