A Blind Date [FICTOID]

The hotel manager sat on the park bench, checking his watch for the third time in as many minutes.

The dating service told him to be there precisely at twelve-fifteen, and he wanted to make a good impression on the woman they matched him with.

He studied the other people in the park, trying to spot her.

“I’ll be wearing a dress made of bright blue fabric and carrying a blanket with honeydew melons,” she’d posted.  “We can picnic in the park before going to the concert.”

The manager wondered if he’d made a wise choice by suggesting the concert:  Not everybody would appreciate a Beastie Boys cover band, especially one that featured accordions, but he’d gotten the tickets through a product placement deal at his hotel.

Will she think I’m a cheapskate? he wondered, regretting not spending money on this date.

“Hello,” said a soft voice behind him.  He whirled in surprise; he hadn’t anticipated his date walking along the shore of the manmade pond behind him.

“Well, hello yourself,” he said, standing up to shake her hand (and instantly regretting it, fearing it made him look stiff and foolish in her eyes).  He gestured for her to sit on the bench beside him, feeling as flustered and as awkward as a teenager.

She proved to be a glib conversationalist, and over their melon slices soon put him at ease.

Still, he felt guilty about the concert and figuring an ounce of prevention to be worth a pound of regret, asked if she really wanted to go.

“Well, not really,” she said.  “I fear they can’t do the Beastie Boys justice.”

“What would you like to do instead?” he asked.

“Well, you are a hotel manager…”

© Buzz Dixon