Interpret this piece of shit as you will.

Bigots for Dummies

Skittery awkwardly pushed his beef and broccoli around his plate and waited for Vanessa to say something.

She didn't even look up at him.

So here he was, on a date with one of the hottest girls in his school, and she wouldn't even look at him. She looked at her soup, the décor, the statues, the paintings, the figurine a few yards away from their table with a huge round stomach that he was happily rubbing, but not at him. He was looking right at her, but dropped his gaze a few minutes later, realizing that avidly watching his date choke down her miso soup was...kind of creepy.

"This is disgusting," she muttered into her soup. Skittery paused, eyebrows knotting over his nose.

"What?" He asked.

She glanced up at him for the first time ever since they entered the restaurant, glaring through the strands of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. Her eyes were disdainful.

"Disgusting," she repeated louder. "Disgusting, disgusting. Y'know, gross?"

"I know!" Skittery said quickly, eager to keep the issue between themselves. He glanced around really quickly, but no one seemed to have looked over. Or if they had, they were pretending they hadn't for etiquette's sake.

"Can't believe you brought me here," Vanessa was muttering.

Skittery pretended he hadn't heard her, and concentrated on shoveling down his beef and broccoli. Maybe the date wasn't such a good idea. All of this just to get the chance to even take a swipe at first base. Second, if he was lucky. He sighed. He was never lucky. He wished that he could have just driven her out to the designated make out point overlooking the lake and not have to go through with all of this.

"So..." He glanced around the table, looking for something, any thing to lighten the mood. Quick. What did suave guys do? "You ever tried chopsticks?"

Vanessa's eyes focused on the slender wooden sticks that her date was holding out to her. Skittery held back his wince. Not suave, but at least something. Perhaps endearing, if nothing else. He watched her reaction hopefully, but the final glare he got didn't lift his spirits much.

"No," She replied. "Why would I? I hate Chinese food." Skittery put down the chopsticks.

"We can go somewhere else, if you like..." He offered, realizing that he sounded like a grade A bitch. She gave him a withering look.

"But we're already eating, Christopher. You could have told me that before we fucking ordered."

Skittery didn't say anything.

He cleaned off his plate, hastily, not even bothering to look up at her once more. The chances of him getting some sort of action tonight were less than zero. Maybe he could do damage control on the way back. Look, I'm sorry the date was crappy...and I'm really sorry that I didn't offer to take you some place else. I'm just nervous, Vanessa...that was it. That was really good. Chicks dug anxiety. I was just really nervous, I didn't wanna mess things up, because I...I think I really, really like...

"Christopher? Why are you spazzing on me?"

"Huh?" Skittery's head jerked up. Vanessa was giving him a strange look.

"You're all staring into space and whatever." She regarded him for a moment or two more, before shaking her head and pushing the soup away from her so fast, it slopped over the rim of her bowl and onto the table. "Let's get out of here. Fuck. I hate this place. I hate chinks."

Skittery's eyes widened, and his head whipped around, checking to see if anyone had heard. Vanessa was not taking pains to be quiet.

"Chinks and gooks," she repeated loudly. "Fucking hate 'um."

Skittery turned back to the table and tried to look invisible. He didn't think it was working. He could hear a few conversations around the table go quiet, as the parties turned in their direction.

"Vanessa..." He mumbled.

"So they bringing our check our what?" Vanessa demanded. "So fucking slow...no wonder they lost the war..."

"Ness, that was the Japanese..."

"Asian, whatever," she said impatiently.

Skittery heard a sharp intake of breath, and looked up to see the waiter standing over them.

His withered face was creased in a look of shock that disappeared once he saw Skittery looking up at him. He tried to smile, even though his eyebrows were scrunched up high into his forehead.

"Bill?" He said, motioning to their half empty plates. "Bill and faw-tune cookies?"

"Yes, yes thankyou..." Skittery said, wishing he would just leave. He didn't want Vanessa to say anything else that might make his old face even more shocked or, even worse, hurt. Vanessa watched him go with an air of distaste, before turning back to Skittery.

"Taste the soup," she told him. "Fucking disgusting." Skittery shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was quiet as cotton.

"I don't wanna taste the soup..."

"Taste it!" Vanessa demanded. "Comon! Taste it!"

"I don't wanna..."

"It's fucking disgusting. You should have told me. Taste it."

"No, I don't think..."

"Taste it! Christ." Vanessa sat back in her chair so hard, she nearly rocked it off it's legs. "You're just as bad as those fucking chinks!" She exclaimed loudly. Skittery could have sworn the whole restaurant went quiet.

He wanted just to leave.

The waiter came back, shoving a bill under Skittery's nose, along with two bent moon shaped cookies, slightly brown near the creases. Before Skittery could thank him, he had bustled off once more, making him feel worse than ever.

"The fuck is this shit?" Vanessa asked, motioning to the cookies.

"Fortune cookies," Skittery said, trying to reconcile. He passed one over to her, trying to ignore the look of disgust on her face, and the way her nose wrinkled up against her eyes. "You eat them and there's paper inside..."

He sighed and looked down at his own. He didn't feel like eating anymore, really. He took the two sides in his fingers, and tried to go for appeasement tactics.

"Look, Vanessa..." He began. "I'm sorry it's been such a crappy date, I just...I thought...I should have offered to take you somewhere before we ordered, but I was just so...so nervous," he split the cookie between his fingers, listening to the rustle of the paper inside. Vanessa had gone silent on the other end of the table, and Skittery took this as the cue to continue. "I'm really nervous around you, but...but I think it's because...I really, really like you Vanessa. A lot. And I think that..."

The printed words became clear between his fingers, as he brushed the crumbs away. "I think that...maybe...do you wanna go out again some time? You can choose the place, I just...just..." His bleary eyes focused on the small, bold print.

Your date is gone.

He whipped his head up to see an empty chair across from him, and his mouth opened in a gape. Scanning the restaurant quickly, he caught sight of Vanessa's ponytail swinging as she pushed through the front doors and into the darkness of the night. He furrowed his brows, and then looked down at the fortune once again. There was a smaller one printed underneath.

You have no penis.

He leaned forwards and banged his head against the table.

Write about someone who finds a startling message in their fortune
cookie...

Jacky Higgins: Ah. Cry not, sweet one, for 'twas long, long ago. Around two yearsish, this coming fall. I'm really sorry about your worst moment, I know how you feel. I was going to write something about a death, but I couldn't find any way to turn it into something good, so I gave up and went with second worst. Thanks for the support, love.
CoinOoh, that's my plan. I'm going to sexualize revolutionary education. Strike that. I'm going to revolutionize sexual education. That's the one. Yes, more focuses on fetishes and consent and whatnot. Thanks very much for the comments!

Mondie: I love you so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much. And I didn't even copy control that. Okay, so I did. Actually. Honestly. But it's late, and I'm tired. But the intention was so there.

Falco Conlon: Thanks super much Falco. It's wonderful having your support, and I appreciate it so so much. Love!

Studentnumber24601: yeah. I think I hit my vaguest on that fic. I broke the alarm. –motions to smoking apparatus on wall- I accept your major hugs with much dignity as can be displayed during major hugs. I was unsure of how to turn it into best moment, so it's kind of a best moment by comparison, in a way. It could've ended like this, but instead it ended like that, which is significantly better than this. Point A, point B...heh...B...so forth and so on. Hrm...if you emailed me the beta that evening, I did not receive it. ? Love you muchly, B.

Fantasy3: I'm glad you liked it. Took a lot of work getting that one down. -- And yes, it did happen to me, and I wish I was that witty at the time. –rolls eyes- Thanks very much for your review!
shakesperean fool: Fun fact! That phone number is the actual phone number for the rape relief center in Vancouver. I like doing shit like that. That is...adding in fun stuff, not...raping...0.o I like writing Spot Conlon as an ass. To me, he is nothing else. –toothy grin- Thanks!
Queen Kez the Wicked: You are my sunshiiiiiine...my only sunshiiiiiine...
Mmmmmmush: Thanks very much. No, sadly, I didn't call anyone, because at the time I didn't really think of it as rape at all. That's a slight artistic stretch I took with this character, who's slightly aware of the fact. But other than that, everything else is pretty much the same. 'Cept it wasn't Racetrack. Ha. I wish.
Bookey Elliot: Hee. I like your name. And I'm glad you like my shit. Yeah, I was trying to go kinda disturbing with the first one, so I'm glad that came out. And as for Racetrack's compliance...hell, I don't know. Maybe he's just a nice guy. -- Thanks!