"So how was your date?"
"Oh you know."
"No, I don't know which is why I asked."
"Well…"
"Yeah I'm good, thanks for asking but tell me about your date."
Mark somehow managed to stop himself short of saying rude and instead chose the politer option of sighing instead.
"Well I was late and when I finally arrived she had a face like…"
"Thunder?"
"No. Like Michelle Williams. You know from…"
"Oh, erm, Manchester by the sea!"
"No, actually I was thinking of Dawson's Creek."
"Ohhh showing your age a bit there aren't we?"
"With a cultural reference that you instantly got."
"Touché."
"Turtle."
"What? Ohhhhh nicely done. So she looked like Michelle Williams? Nice. Beautiful lady."
"Oh no she looked nothing like her."
"So why did you say it then?"
"Because you never let me finish my sentences. I don't know, maybe one day we can have a conversation rather than you shouting words at me like you're watching a quiz show and I'm a contestant struggling for the answer."
"Oh. So she had a face like thunder then?"
Mark makes the sound of a game show buzzer which indicates the incorrect answer.
"I'm sorry that's not the answer we were looking for. Let's reveal the correct answer. Oh look what it says I'm sorry. Don't worry though our contestants don't leave empty handed. They all leave with a…" Mark finishes the sentence with flipping the bird with his middle fingers on both hands for added effect in Colins's direction.
Now it was Colin's turn to sigh and his eyes rolled up slowly into his head like they were boulders being simultaneously pushed by Sisyphus who let go of both under the immense strain and they shot back down.
"So how late were you? Like Alice in Wonderland late?"
"Yeah like maybe. She looked pretty pissed when I finally got there."
"What are we talking about here? 10 or 15?"
"Hmmm."
"What like 20, 25?"
Mark holds his clenched right fist in front of his hand and coughs into it "40."
"Holy shit did you just say 40? Was it 40 or worse?"
"Wellll it definitely wasn't over 60."
"I take it you never sit alone at night in bed crying yourself to sleep thinking why can't I find a woman? If you ever wonder why women think men are all arseholes you're a prime example Mark. Were you surprised she was still there because frankly I'm shocked. Well unless she lives out in a village and the buses into town only come every two hours. Does she live in a village Mark?"
"You know I didn't think to ask and I really don't think we'll make it to the second date."
"Oh no shit. I kind of guessed that bit all by myself but thank you for confirming. I'll be sure to note your kindness towards me in my journal before I go to bed."
"Wait, you journal?"
"Nooo you dickhead. I'm writing a book on the art of understanding sarcasm though and I'm going to now dedicate it to you in the opening."
"Wow, like literally the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"Oh have you been peaking through my notebook again you sneaky fuck you?"
"Yeah well maybe one or two pages."
Colin shakes his head like a dog getting free from rain drops.
"So you get there like 57 minutes late, she's got a face on her like boiled piss. Did you try to smooth it over? Throw yourself on the floor and beg for mercy or did you come up with some crap like the dog ate my bus ticket?"
"I've never been so apologetic. I was being sincere, it really wasn't my fault. I got stuck in traffic, I tried to message her and my battery died and I showed her my phone and said look Lisa check for yourself if you don't believe me and went to hand her the phone and stopped my arm short."
"W-w-w-w-w-w-wait why did you arm stop short? What am I, err, missing here?"
Mark screwed his face into a grimace which remained there for a good few seconds like it had frozen and it transpired all mothers weren't lying when they tell their kids your face will stay like that if the wind changes.
"Oh come on, you're killing me over here." Mark was just starting to relax his facial muscles when Colin says that and his face instantly screwed back up again as the tension of whatever it was he'd done hit him like an aftershock in an earthquake.
Colin lifted his pint glass up and inspected how much was left in the bottom which wasn't much more than a couple of mouthfuls at most. He held it in the air and quickly figured out that whatever it was might be so bad that it could well make him laugh and he didn't want Mark to time it so that the contents were going to come back out through his nose at any moment.
Finally the tension released enough for Mark to speak again and he starts to answer the question looking very much like the kid with his hands caught in the cookie jar "Wellllll," he starts the sentence with the word drawn out probably hoping Colin would now interrupt him but typically for Mark he's now sat there quiet as a church mouse this time. "So errrr yeah it transpires her name wasn't Lisa."
Colin gives Mark a look like a disappointed parent might give their kid. That lasts for all of a second or two before he's biting into his top lip and then his lips screw up like he's biting into a lemon as he tries hard not to laugh. Opening his lips now into a pursed shape he breathes out slowly trying to regain some sense of composure. Takes a deep breath in and gives a little cough. "So not a Lisa then?"
"Errr nope."
"What was her name?"
"Debbie."
"Oh so not even fucking close dingbat. You fucking idiot. Did she throw a drink over you?"
"Thankfully no."
"Why? Cause it would have been a waste on you?"
"No. Cause we didn't meet in a pub."
"Oh," Colin replies, somewhat confused at first by this seemingly startling revelation and he brings his pint glass up to his lips but brings it back down from his face before he took a mouthful. "So to sum up without needing the whole story, it didn't go well?"
"Nope."
"Do you need a good drink after it?" Colin asks, raising his glass up, looks down at it and nods his head as if asking the question of would he like a pint?
Genuinely touched Mark replies "Oh mate that's very kind," and then feels his world go into slow motion as Colin's wrist bent forward, unfinished pint still clasped in the same hand as he then flicks it and sends the contents flying towards his face at which point it ceased to be in slow motion anymore and he felt the weight of the liquid forced into his mug.
Mark wipes his hand down his face and flicks the residue it collected back Colin's way who was busy chuckling to himself.
"That's for Debbie no drink."
"Prick," came Mark's curt one word reply.
"You deserved it," Colin tells him trying to justify his actions.
"Yeah well maybe I did but I didn't say that she didn't get her own back did I you fucking idiot?"
"Oh."
"Yeah oh. Fuck me. I can't believe you actually just threw your drink at me. What the fuck?"
"So what did she do?"
"Jesus Christ Colin. You don't let me finish my sentences, you don't let me finish my story and you can't ever say you're sorry."
"Would it help if I apologised now?"
"No not fucking really but I'll tell you what I'll demonstrate on you where she put her knee on me and I won't apologise how does that sound?"
Well you don't have to be a genius to work out whether Colin took Mark up on that not so kindly offer.
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