I thought this up in the wee hours of the morning and it wouldn't go away.
Enjoy!
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She watched with a kind of horrified fascination as Tony leaned in for the kill. The blonde's horrific yellow hair seemed to glow fluoro in the dim bar lights, and her lips glistened with gloss that Kate prophesised would taste disgusting. The shining lips, then the yellow hair, disappeared as Tony embraced her, and she clawed at his back with long talons.
"Katie?"
She watched, almost in spite of herself, as they tried to eat each other head first.
"Kate?"
It was gross. It was crass. It was Tony.
"Kate?"
"What? Oh, God, Lee, I'm so sorry." She dragged her eyes away from the vision. She was disgusted. And yet, some how, grossly impressed. Tony had come in alone, and within this half-hour, had procured himself a blonde who was practically ripping his clothes off. She had witnessed a master at work.
"A friend of yours?"
"What? No!"
She looked around into the handsome, rugged face of her date, his white even teeth shining.
He pulled her close.
"Okay, okay, I can take a hint," he laughed, and bent his head to hers.
Her heart wasn't in it.
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He was suddenly struck by the paper- thin quality of all his dates. Seeing Kate, in her crisp white and red, had thrown his date's pink and blue cow- girl suit into it's shoddy perspective.
Crisp and clean.
And yet, somehow, very sexy.
He jerked his mind back to the matter in hand. He often thought about a different woman in intimate situations, but to do it on a first date was just rude.
Why had Kate have to come into this bar? He knew for a fact that she usually went to Petersons on Saturday nights. That is, if she did what she wrote on her PDA.
He managed to turn himself around under his predatory date, wriggling to get a clear view of Kate. This proved to be a mistake. She was now making out with her date; a talk- show host kinda guy, only out to get into her pants. He knew the type. Christ, he'd practically invented them!
He tried to imagine Kate in the place of his devouring date. It didn't quite work. He suddenly saw himself as Kate's date, holding her close, bending her back over the bar…
Rude schmude.
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The bar tender wiped his glass with his cloth and sighed. He saw it often, but not usually a case as bad as this. He had seen the small brunette and the tall man with the blonde making sheep's eyes at each other in turn all night. It was pathetic, but he sympathised.
"Ah, young love, Tom," said a regular, who had seen almost as many come and go as Tom himself. "Young thing's today can't see what right in front of their noses."
"Yeah, cause they're too busy starin' at true love on the other side of the room."
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