Saturday's Storyteller: "It was love at first swipe."
by Belinda Roddie
It was love at first swipe.
Walter wasn't sure what to expect - after all, his interests were limited in scope, and his Tinder profile left a little something to be desired - but there he was. And there he was. Beautiful, British, and with the most appropriate name. Bentley Wright - perhaps, in the end, the right man for this thirty-five-year-old loner in life.
After all, Walter had never had a boyfriend. His parents hadn't helped, either. His dad was a methhead who had abandoned him at the ripe age of three, and his mother had fucked so many damned truckers that she probably had every venereal disease in existence. Long story short, Walter was the epitome of a neglected child. He had found peace in fishing - some quiet along a river or pond was enough to stifle his past trauma and demons from time to time - and so, he was amazed that his figurative bait had hooked in quite a tasty fish,
Bentley Wright. His profile picture was absolutely delicious. Long-haired. Hazel-eyed. It was as if he had been rejected from the Beatles line-up yet still found a way to look like a fabulous English musician. And in only a few typed characters, he had asked Walter out.
Yes, Walter - receding hairline, stubble, pasty skin and all - had a date. At the local Cheesecake Factory.
The Cheesecake Factory, for crying out loud! I mean, how much more ideal could this date get?
Walter could feel his palms begin to sweat, as if he had walked right into Eminem's "Green Mile" music video (his palms are sweaty - knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater alreeady - mom's spaghetti). Unfortunately, it was a long time tic of his: When the poor man got nervous, he secreted said nerves out from the creased and weathered skin of his hands. He would have to scrub quite a bit to get the hyperactive pores to calm down a bit. So he toddled off to the bathroom to begin his ritual.
After his hands had been chafed beyond repair, Walter was ready to hop into his car and drive off to his newfound romantic destiny. He got into his old, beat up Chevrolet, turned the key in the ignition, and...nothing. Not a peep. A dead battery? A bad engine? He couldn't tell, but he was upset. He had to let his date know he'd be runniing late.
Sorry, car won't start - I know, so cliché, right? Be there ASAP.
No worries, boo - see you soon!
Oh, how his heart thrummed at that! If only he could power up his automobile with his own adrenaline! But instead, he called an Uber, and a white Toyota commandeered by a charming young man named Chen picked him up.
"Where you off to?"
"Oh. Uh. A date."
"Exciting! Gonna make her a happy woman, huh?"
"Heh. Yeah. I guess so."
"Good luck. I remember my first date with my wife. I was so nervous."
"Aw. How long have you been married?"
"Nine years. And she's just as beautiful as she was when I met her."
That made Walter feel a little better.
Chen dropped him off right in front of the restaurant, and Walter was sure to leave a five star review. With his dress shirt tucked in and his receding hairline slicked back, he strode into the Cheesecake Factory and searched for his date. What he saw, however, was not at all what he expected. And not in a good way, either.
"Bentley" was not who he said he was.
Instead of long hair, the man was bald. Instead of being in his thirties, he must have been in his sixties. And the worst of all, instead of hazel eyes, he had gray eyes! Not that Walter had a problem with gray eyes, but it was a matter of principle, wasn't it?
Still, Walter made himself sit down at the booth where his date was sitting. He spied the wedding ring, and he was quick to recognize his date, regardless of his need for sweets. "Bentley" was his former chemistry teacher, and still married with three kids.
"I'll take the peanut butter chocolate cheesecake to go," he said to the waiter, and once he got the box, he was gone.
As he got another Uber home - no Chen, though - Walter couldn't help but think of his fishing expeditions. He had traveled all over the United States before the coronavirus had become the next plague - Texas, Vermont, New York, Maine, Montana, back to California - and he had caught plenty of fish along the way. Including catfish! But he had learned a valuable lesson this evening:
Sometimes, catfishing doesn't result in a tasty fish.
This week's prompt was provided by my 1st block English 2 class. Thanks, sophomores!
It was love at first swipe.
Walter wasn't sure what to expect - after all, his interests were limited in scope, and his Tinder profile left a little something to be desired - but there he was. And there he was. Beautiful, British, and with the most appropriate name. Bentley Wright - perhaps, in the end, the right man for this thirty-five-year-old loner in life.
After all, Walter had never had a boyfriend. His parents hadn't helped, either. His dad was a methhead who had abandoned him at the ripe age of three, and his mother had fucked so many damned truckers that she probably had every venereal disease in existence. Long story short, Walter was the epitome of a neglected child. He had found peace in fishing - some quiet along a river or pond was enough to stifle his past trauma and demons from time to time - and so, he was amazed that his figurative bait had hooked in quite a tasty fish,
Bentley Wright. His profile picture was absolutely delicious. Long-haired. Hazel-eyed. It was as if he had been rejected from the Beatles line-up yet still found a way to look like a fabulous English musician. And in only a few typed characters, he had asked Walter out.
Yes, Walter - receding hairline, stubble, pasty skin and all - had a date. At the local Cheesecake Factory.
The Cheesecake Factory, for crying out loud! I mean, how much more ideal could this date get?
Walter could feel his palms begin to sweat, as if he had walked right into Eminem's "Green Mile" music video (his palms are sweaty - knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater alreeady - mom's spaghetti). Unfortunately, it was a long time tic of his: When the poor man got nervous, he secreted said nerves out from the creased and weathered skin of his hands. He would have to scrub quite a bit to get the hyperactive pores to calm down a bit. So he toddled off to the bathroom to begin his ritual.
After his hands had been chafed beyond repair, Walter was ready to hop into his car and drive off to his newfound romantic destiny. He got into his old, beat up Chevrolet, turned the key in the ignition, and...nothing. Not a peep. A dead battery? A bad engine? He couldn't tell, but he was upset. He had to let his date know he'd be runniing late.
Sorry, car won't start - I know, so cliché, right? Be there ASAP.
No worries, boo - see you soon!
Oh, how his heart thrummed at that! If only he could power up his automobile with his own adrenaline! But instead, he called an Uber, and a white Toyota commandeered by a charming young man named Chen picked him up.
"Where you off to?"
"Oh. Uh. A date."
"Exciting! Gonna make her a happy woman, huh?"
"Heh. Yeah. I guess so."
"Good luck. I remember my first date with my wife. I was so nervous."
"Aw. How long have you been married?"
"Nine years. And she's just as beautiful as she was when I met her."
That made Walter feel a little better.
Chen dropped him off right in front of the restaurant, and Walter was sure to leave a five star review. With his dress shirt tucked in and his receding hairline slicked back, he strode into the Cheesecake Factory and searched for his date. What he saw, however, was not at all what he expected. And not in a good way, either.
"Bentley" was not who he said he was.
Instead of long hair, the man was bald. Instead of being in his thirties, he must have been in his sixties. And the worst of all, instead of hazel eyes, he had gray eyes! Not that Walter had a problem with gray eyes, but it was a matter of principle, wasn't it?
Still, Walter made himself sit down at the booth where his date was sitting. He spied the wedding ring, and he was quick to recognize his date, regardless of his need for sweets. "Bentley" was his former chemistry teacher, and still married with three kids.
"I'll take the peanut butter chocolate cheesecake to go," he said to the waiter, and once he got the box, he was gone.
As he got another Uber home - no Chen, though - Walter couldn't help but think of his fishing expeditions. He had traveled all over the United States before the coronavirus had become the next plague - Texas, Vermont, New York, Maine, Montana, back to California - and he had caught plenty of fish along the way. Including catfish! But he had learned a valuable lesson this evening:
Sometimes, catfishing doesn't result in a tasty fish.
This week's prompt was provided by my 1st block English 2 class. Thanks, sophomores!
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