hauntedbostonrpg | Dating Pool

It had been another long, chaotic evening at work. The advantage of working the twelve hour shift meant Natalie only had to do it three times a week. The downside was twelve hours of never-ending stress. She had also, in a moment of impaired judgement, scheduled a blind date for two hours after the end of said shift.

Did people still call it a blind date? There had been pictures exchanged over texts, after all. Natalie chose neutral ground, a bar she had passed several times on her way home, but never entered. It was busy enough to provide distraction if small talk fell through. Ever the pessimist.

She shrugged off her black jacket and ran her fingers through her thick, dark curls to plump them up. After a brief scan, the nurse spotted a row of empty seats at the bar. No solitary male looking up at the door every few minutes. Natalie had gotten there first. The brunette ordered one of the local craft brews and settled in for the waiting game. She'd fire off a casual, questioning text after she finished the beer.

And she would try valiantly not to be the one lonely person with her eyes fixed on the entrance.

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She laughed into her beer. "You have a good eye."

Natalie looked at him appraisingly. "And what exactly are you at risk for?"

Thankfully the bartender had brought him a second draft. Elijah drank the top third. "Heart trouble," he confessed. "It's already in pretty bad shape, thanks to Shanna. It might break if I can't get your number."

He squinted at her from his left eye, gauging her reaction.

"That was bad, though, right?" He cracked up.

"Oh, wow. That was really, really bad." Natalie tilted her head, pretending to mull it over. "But maybe so bad that it's good? Like Troll 2."

She grabbed a dry napkin and rummaged through her bag for a pen. The brunette found one with a logo for a blood pressure medication emblazoned on it.

"I'm going to do this the old-fashioned way." When she was finished jotting down her number, she slid it across the bar to Elijah.

He took it and perked up. "And I was worried it would just say 'Nah, Son' with a cute little smiley face." Elijah ripped the napkin in half and stole her pen, taking a moment to read the name of the drug before writing.

"This here," he folded the square and slid it under his index finger, "Is not only my number, but a movie recommendation that will change your life. Nail Gun Massacre. Good luck finding it. I hope you have a VCR."

He folded her number and tucked it into his wallet.

Elijah felt a cold draft on the back of his neck. He looked around and spotted a girl with brown, curly hair and a pair of Philadelphia Eagles gloves coming into the bar already wearing a look of 'no-fucks-to-give' defiance over her tardiness. "Ah shit," he mumbled and turned around to Natalie with wide eyes. "What do I do? Do I hide?"

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Wow. Like looking into a mirror." Natalie pushed her empty glass away.

She took the piece of paper and tucked it away in her bag before standing up and putting on her jacket. "I think it's time for a French exit. Maybe she won't even notice you. Ooh, maybe Ken is here and she'll hit it off with him."

Natalie held out her arm to Elijah.

Elijah frowned. “What’s a French exit?” He wrapped his scarf around his neck haphazardly and put on his coat. “Just a sec, gotta get the bill.” He drummed on the counter and leaned over it, belatedly realizing the bartender was not coming back anytime soon. “Uh...” He pulled out his wallet, took out some cash, and stared dumbfounded at the drinks they had ordered. What was that, like thirty bucks?

In the spirit of estimation, he dropped more cash that was probably necessary and took her arm. “Okay, let’s bounce.”

The hairdresser was on her tiptoes looking around, only now considering that being late without a text might not have been in her best interest. Her eyes locked on Elijah for a minute, but kept going once she noticed the other girl. Not her date, then.

He cruised past her and into the cold air.

"Right. Money in exchange for goods and services. Almost forgot about that part." Natalie's brain was definitely running on overtime tonight.

Once they were enveloped in the chilly safety of the outdoors, she turned to Elijah. "Technically, it's when you leave early without saying goodbye. I modified it a little for Shanna."

“Oh, so like,” he made a connection, “When I’m at my grandma’s house for Thanksgiving and I don’t want to spend forty-five minutes saying goodbye to everybody, so I just raise my hand and walk out the door. Got it.”
He nodded. Nearby a car arrived for another patron, the valet stepping out and trading keys for cash. Elijah wondered if his car was still parked where he left it or if it had been towed.

He reached out and touched the front of her coat. “So you should text me. Or I’ll text you.”

The brunette had to look up at him. Now that they were both standing, the height difference was evident. She broke into a smile. "Exactly. And now you're ready to go out into the world."

Natalie patted her bag. "Don't worry, I have your number. And I, unlike some people --," she shot a dark look toward the bar's entrance, "am not an asshole, so I'll actually use it."

“Good. You should definitely do that.” Still looking at her, Elijah backed toward the curb, which came up faster than he was expecting. He checked his balance. “Alllllright. On that note, I’m out of here before I embarrass myself. Catch you later, Nurse Natalie.” He gave her a salute and crossed the street, turning back once to wave before stuffing his cold hands in his coat pockets.

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