“Hi, I’m Bob.”
Hi, I’m Sally. Nice to meet you,” she said as she took his limp hand in hers. Sally was a firm believer that handshakes speak volumes about people, particularly what they are like in bed. A limp, sweaty hand didn’t bode well.
“Shall we grab a table?” he said as he gestured towards the inner sanctum of the after work, yuppie bar like a stiff, English butler leading the way for royalty.
Sally shrugged and led the way to a table for two by the wall. A short brunette waitress trotted over and took their drink orders. It was the kind of place that didn’t serve food. Sally ordered a cosmopolitan and Bob ordered Scotch and soda even though it was just 6PM. The bar was in the business district of downtown. In nine short hours, this whole area would be deserted like a viral plague had swept through wiping out the entire population, but for now, it was a abuzz with people wearing suits.
“I normally don’t do this kind of thing,” said Sally by way of making apology for even being there.
“Me neither,” shrugged Bob, “but Tom is a really good friend of mine. When he said I should meet you, I figured he knew what he was talking about.”
Latching onto the only topic they had in common, Sally replied, “I’ve worked with Tom for six years now and this is the first time he’s ever set me up on a blind date, so I felt much the same way. How do you know Tom?”
“We went to university together. I banged his wife before he did.”
Owing to the loud and unlistenable music in the bar, Sally wasn’t sure that she heard the last part of his statement correctly and just said, “Ah. Where do you work?”
“I work at Fizbit, Gardner, Grove, Green & Wallace just down the street. I’m a corporate attorney.”
“Oh, that must be interesting.”
“Not really. It’s a soul-sucking profession. If someone had told me when I was banging Tom’s wife that this was how I’d end up, I would have switched my major to art right then and there.”
This time, Sally caught the reference to Tom’s wife loud and clear. She almost said, “Excuse me?” but she decided to let it go and merely said, “Accounting isn’t all that exciting either.”
Bob sighed, “It’s a shame that professions like ours even exist. Yeah, we get paid a lot, or at least I do because I’m a man, but is it really worth it?”
Sally was getting pretty good an ignoring offensive remarks at this point. “Well, someone has to do it.”
“Yeah, but why us? I mean, when I was in kindergarten and they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I never would have said corporate attorney. I wanted to be an astronaut.”
“I wanted to be a ballet dancer.” Sally was briefly impressed by the depth of emotion that Bob showed on the subject. Maybe this could lead somewhere after all.
“I’m sorry. This topic is just depressing. Let’s change the subject… So, are you into anal?”
After a really long, awkward pause, all Sally could utter was, “What?”
“You know, anal sex. Do you take it in the pooper? Tom said he thought you might be into anal. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”
Expressing a combination of fluster, anger and disgust, Sally stood up with a flourish. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She closed it again. She grabbed her purse and held it in her arms as if to defend herself from this unexpected onslaught of rudeness. Finally, after standing there with her eyes agog for longer than she realized, she said, “GOOD BYE,” turned on her heels and walked out of the bar. Bob took it as a “No” and finished his drink.