Dinner was going well. It usually does. No matter what sort of mood I'm in, once I sit down and we start talking over a few glasses of wine, I relax. My fears, insecurities, all those irrational thoughts melt away. I like it. Sometimes I wish I could live just like this. In our little bubble. Anyway, our conversation is good. I'm looking at her and thinking how gorgeous she looks. I look up and see the woman I clocked before a couple of tables over. Odd pick for a couple. She looks like she's not having a great time. Almost like she doesn't want to be there. He's gesticulating and talking too much. It looks to be about himself. I can see his legs outstretched under the table. Hers are firmly placed under her chair. Not a good sign. She looks up at me. Our eyes lock briefly. I can't place what it is about her, but we have some sort of connection. I don't know her do I? She gives me a slightly sad and longing smile.
We're at the table, my date and I. His name is Brad and so far I know a whole lot about him as he has not stopped talking about himself since he tapped me on the shoulder 20 minutes ago. I wish I had organised a friend as an excuse - you know the kind where you text them and then they call you with some fake emergency which gives you are decent reason to leave the date? All I can come up with as my reason so far is that he is quite obviously a douche bag. Perhaps I am too quick to judge. So far Brad has talked about his job - he's an investment banker; his car - he drives a Lexus and his house. He hasn't once stopped to ask me anything about myself but still I sit, waiting for our meal, drinking our shared bottle of wine at an alarming rate. I nod and smile, although I think it wouldn't even matter whether I was there or not. I suspect he could talk this way to a brick wall. My eyes meet with the guy I spotted at the bar earlier. I give him one of my "please help me" looks and a wan smile, as if that is going to save me from the situation. I still think I know him. I wish right now I did. I would rather be sitting at his table with his girlfriend that with Brad the lad.
The night has progressed somewhat. I've become a bit obsessed with the girl at the other table. Maybe I'm being judgemental but the guy just looks like a dick. She isn't enjoying herself any more than when I first saw her. If anything she looks ready to run from the restaurant. I'm giving a running commentary to my lady. She's intrigued too. We start chatting about this woman. Assessing her. I'm surprised by the path of the conversation. It's odd for her to let me discuss my (can't place it) attraction with this woman. For some reason it seems natural. She gets up to go to the bathroom to eavesdrop on their conversation. Unlike me she has to know the tone of the conversation. She walks past slowly, stopping the waitress while next to their table. I can tell she's listening. Sly... She continues on to the bathroom. The woman gets up a minute later and heads in the same direction.
I am still being bombarding with Everything Brad. While I'm all for a healthy self esteem, Brad takes the concept to a whole new level. In my periphery I notice the female part of the couple from the table nearby get up and start talking to a waitress nearby, before heading off to the toilet. With the amount of wine I have consumed I need to go too. I excuse myself and walk off. One stall is taken and the other I enter before sitting with my head in my hands. I mutter, "Oh god" out loud and hear a chuckle from the neighbouring cubicle. It must be the woman who is part of the couple. She says, "Having a rough night?" We both leave the cubicles at the same time and wash our hands as we chat. I tell her about my appalling blind date and plead with her to shoot me now and put me out of my misery. We laugh and our eyes meet. It's one of those rare moments you have where you lock eyes and experience a connection. It is only fleeting but it makes my heart beat a little faster. It's just nice to be able to vent to someone, and have them listen and laugh and share a moment. She walks out before me, and she has the most lush arse I have seen in a very long time. I let my eyes linger on it as she walks out and heads back to her table. It's back to reality for me, in the company of the tedious Brad. I sigh inwardly and order another bottle of wine.
My lady comes back to the table after taking a bit of time. Apparently she's met the woman from the other table. It's a bad blind date. I laugh. Never really have those myself, although I'm not the blind dating kind. It's too awkward for me. The woman seems to be at her wit's end. I chat a bit more with my lady but keep drifting back to look at her. My girl looks slightly wistful. I ask if she actually likes her. She tells me she just seems genuine, like there is something just so familiar and natural about her. Surprised, I say the same. We look at each other. My heart beats a bit faster. I'm nervous for some reason. We laugh. I ask if we should save her from her date. She agrees but she doesn't want to go over there. Oh well, I'm happy being the fall guy. I get up and walk over having no idea what I'm going to say.
As if it can't get any worse with Brad, it just does. He is now in full flight talking about his ex-girlfriend who apparently is the most beautiful and sexy woman in the world. She's a sports model. I ask if that is like a sports car and Brad just looks confused. He then goes on to explain that she models in bikinis at various sporting events. I am already well into the second bottle of wine. I may as well write myself off. I look desperately at the table where the couple sits. They seem to get the idea, to understand how awful my date is. I see the male part of the couple get up and start walking towards my table.
As I get to the table I just start talking. "Do I know you? You are just so familiar". She looks up at me, pauses for a bit and looks me in the eye. She looks over to my lady and then relief visibly floods over her. I know she knows we're together so I'm taking it as gratefulness. "Yes" she replies, "We met at a conference last year." "Really, which one was it?" I say. "The one with all those idiot salesmen," she quips back. "Oh my god!" I reply, "I remember now," lying easily. We banter a bit about how conference people tend to be idiots. I like her. She's quick and smart. She doesn't once look at her date or try to introduce me. I can feel his gaze boring into me but I don't look. If anything it makes me cockier. "Looks like my dessert's here," I say, without even looking at the table. "How would you like to come join us for coffee or a drink?" I hear a slight splutter from the guy but still don't look at him. She looks at me hard. I can't quite read her. She gets up, grabs her jacket, the bottle of wine on the table and her purse and says, "That would be nice." We turn around and walk back to my table. I can't resist looking at the guy. He's looking at her in shock. He is slack-jawed. I smile and walk on by. I can tell his ego won't like this but I know he'll leave without trouble.
This well-dressed man now stands at my table and starts a conversation. Apparently we know each other from a conference, but I know we don't. I just go along with it. I sense he is throwing me a lifeline and there is no way I am going to muck this up. We chat naturally, paying absolutely no attention to my date. He tells me his dessert has arrived. I have no idea how he knows this as he hasn't once broken my gaze. He asks if I would like to join them for dessert or a drink. I grab my jacket, bag and purse as well as the remaining wine, and head across without hesitation. The look on Brad's face is priceless.
