Page 55 of Perfect Date
“I don’t mess around.”
“Another awesome thing about you.”
“Another?” I ask totally knowing I’m fishing.
“Yep,” is all he gives me.
“Yes, let’s do it.”
“Great!”
He keeps me smiling the whole way to the store asking me random questions.
“What’s your favorite word?”
“My favorite word? How do I choose that?” I ask giggling.
“Mine is kumquat.”
“Stop it, you’re lying.”
“Nope. I mean, who was in charge of naming fruit anyway? What made someone think, kumquat - that’s what this shall be!”
“You’re weird,” I declare.
“What annoys you most at work?”
“Most? I’m not sure, but one thing that drives me crazy at work is when patients all of a sudden forget they can swallow when they’re in my chair.”
“Forget they can swallow?”
“Yeah, like they still produce saliva and it’s going to accumulate in their mouth, even if I’m there with a suction. Sometimes they’ll make noises and act like their own saliva is suddenly poisonous or something.”
He laughs, “Interesting. What else?”
“Well, there are patients that are super late, check in, I’m running behind schedule now, and then as I just get them seated in my chair they ask if they can go to the bathroom. Or how about the people that tell me they brush twice a day and floss daily, meanwhile their gums are bleeding, and there’s calculus build up everywhere!”
“Let it out, woman!” he’s laughing now.
“Whatever,” I laugh at myself knowing I sound crazy and the look on his face completely encouraging the crazy is comical. “What about you? What makes you crazy at your job?”
“Hmm, well there’s people that take forever to decide what drink they want to order, and expect me to stand there the whole time while they decide. Like I don’t have other patrons to help. Or those that tell me how to make their drink, step by step, as though I have no clue.”
“Alright, I can see that would be annoying,” I agree watching as he maneuvers his truck into the parking lot of the store and begins looking for a spot. It seems like everyone is here right now. Great.
“Then there’s the ladies that take it as a personal challenge to ask me out,” he shakes his head.
“Does that happen a lot?” I ask curiously.
“Jealous?” He asks with a wicked smile, once he parks.
“No, it’s an honest question.”
“It happens enough. I get slipped a lot of numbers and it’s annoying. I confess I enjoy seeing their faces when I slide it right back.”
“What? You don’t ever keep them? Come on.”
“No. I don’t think it’s appropriate given the fact I own the place and I don’t really find sloppy drunk chicks attractive. And it’s just not my style.”
