So once again it has been a really long damn time. Where was I? Well, I was having a better time than Santana's gonna have in this chapter I can tell you that much ...or was I? *ponders this deeply* Friends are great but sometimes...Sometimes they just fuck shit up!
Enjoy!
Chapter 7: Disaster Date
I hadn't been on a date for a while. Why, you ask? Well, if you must know information that is completely none of your God damn business, I'm typically a very busy, extremely successful woman which leaves little time for me to sit across from someone and pretend like I give a fuck about their over dramatic feelings. I've worked hard for my position in life and part of how I've gotten there is by deleting distractions. I guarantee I would have never been able to bitch, claw, and razor blade my way up to partner at my law firm Schuester & Sylvester if I had spent copious amounts of energy on chasing tail. With that being said, in my thirty-two minutes of daily leisure time, I enjoyed coming home to my luxury apartment with the skyline view and being met with peace and quiet after a nice long satisfying day of strutting in power suits and making the defense cry like Lindsay Lohan's lawyer does on a minute by minute basis. Even though I'm sure to you this all sounds great and fulfilling, my so called 'friends' questioned my long loving and committed relationship with singledom.
"Girl, you need to get LAID and FAST!"
"Wait, what?"
"You heard me. That cat needs to be petted because you know a cat's dead when it doesn't purr." I gave her a 'What in the fucking shit does that ratchet ass mess mean?' look. Mercedes ignored it and continued nodding in her confident 'Mama's bout to drop some knowledge on ya girl, so you best listen up' sort of way. "You're cranky as all get out and the only way for you to fix that problem; because you've got issues, is to do wanky things…as you like to call them."
"Who says I'm not getting laid just because I haven't settled down?" They all ignored me and continued to try and solve what I felt was a nonexistent issue.
"I'd pay for someone to go out with you." Sugar offered which of course did nothing but boost my confidence.
"I don't need to hire someone for a date. I'm single by choice."
"No, you're single because you have the personality of Satan's eviler twin sister."
"Why am I friends with you douchebags? What don't you understand about me LIKING being single? I don't need to have to deal with some broads problems. I like being in control of my own life. What is wrong with that?"
"Nothing, if that's what this was." Mercedes offered. "But girl, you're in a rut. And it's been a long long time that you've been in that rut."
"It's more like a ditch now." Sugar offered.
"Hells Canyon to be exact." I groaned in frustration.
"I just don't like relationships, okay?!"
"If I can be the voice of reason here." Oh yes, when I needed someone to make sense of things I always was one to turn to batshit Quinn. Never met anyone more sensible and responsible. "The last serious girlfriend you had was our professor in collage, Holly Holiday. And you know as well as I that that was a toxic relationship if you want to even call it that. Ever since it's just been an endless stream of random blonde one night stands. It's like you still can't get over the bitch even though it was forever ago that she broke your heart of steel. And as of late you've just quit all together and tried to distract yourself with work. We as your friends are here to tell you lovingly that you, Santana Lopez, have become pathetic."
"Oh, I feel the love Lucy. Thank you for bestowing this valuable information upon me so that I now have the opportunity to get my life back on track. I have no idea what I would do without you all. Now, let's watch The Sisterhood of the Traveling pants, trousers, and capri's and will all our cycles to sync at the same time." I deadpanned. All three rolled their eyes…Well, except Sugar. She just smiled brightly like the brain-dead socialite she was.
"Poo poo our concern all you want but because we love you, we've set you up on a blind date. So you better search through that absurdly large part of your closet that only houses insanely tight tacky two dollar whore dresses because she's great and you need to dress to impress."
"W-what?" I spoke in shock. "No, no, no, no, NO!" I rambled in horror. "I have NEVER nor will I EVER go out on a blind date."
"Oh yes you will, we've scheduled it for this Saturday."
"I have plans."
"I'm sure your vibrator can reschedule." I glared at Mercedes as Quinn knelt down in front of me.
"Just do it once and we'll never ever ask you again, I promise." She put her hands on mine. "Besides, what do you have to lose?"
"I don't know, my dignity?...And maybe a kidney?"
Quinn rolled her eyes.
What? They don't say don't talk to strangers for nothing.
-Thursday-
My phone vibrated, indicating that some clueless dumbass who for some reason thought I owned a phone to actually talk to people felt the misguided need to text me for some unfortunate and surely pointless reason. I've always been known to have lot's of faith in others.
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Your blind date just told me how excited she is to meet you!
From: HBIC
That would be really cool if I gave a salsa dancing fuck but I don't, so why are you informing me of this useless bullshit?
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Your perpetual lack of charm will not bring down my wonderful mood Santana.
From: HBIC
Bite me
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Ask her when you guys are on your third date, maybe she'll indulge you in that request.
From: HBIC
Stop trying to get me laid! I'm hot, I can do that on my own.
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Your hand doesn't count and stop listening to so much Pink. You are not a rock star nor do you have the rock moves. Get over it.
I huffed because….She was SO fucking annoying and I DID have the rock moves damn it! Seriously, how the HELL was I ever dormmates with her?
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Make sure you're not late Santana, make a good impression, and for the love of God attempt to be nice!
NICE?
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Just remember, don't be yourself and everything will go just fine
My self-esteem had never been higher.
-Saturday night at Vijf Vlieghen-
What the fuck is Vijf Vlieghen you ask? Some bullshit fancy Dutch restaurant my idiot friends thought would be fancy enough to as Quinn stated 'Woo her enough to forget about your dreadful personality'.
I would once again like to take this moment to state how very much I hate my friends. And when I say 'hate' I don't just mean strongly dislike. I mean true unadulterated hate.
Anyway, back to this imminent shitstorm. I strutted up to the super tall blond host in his mid thirties and informed him that I had a reservation under the name Lopez. After he was finally able to tear his eyes away from my five figure cleavage, his mouth began to move in a way that signaled words were going to come out of it versus just the drool that had cascaded down his chin via the sight of my perky push-up bra clad rambunctious twins.
"AH! I just sat a woman there a few seconds ago, it's just this way." He led me to a small mildly romantic secluded table. Upon arriving at said table I was greeted by a femaleish human thing I would have never typically asked out.
First of all, she wasn't blonde. Secondly, she was shorter than me. Thirdly, her nose was fucking HUGE.
So she had nice legs though…
What? The girl couldn't be a COMPLETE failure, right?
"Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Santana."
"You're even more beautiful than I was told you would be." I'd be charmed if I wasn't so distracted by the fucking reindeer on her sweater. Who wears that shit to a nice restaurant? Let alone when they're on a date? Sure, the plaid skirt made her legs look nice but as my eyes foolishly traveled south they were hit with the tragic unfortunate existence of her penny loafers and as a result my stomach lurched. "I'm Rachel." I shook her manly yet tiny hand and sat across from her pint sized body.
"They have so many wonderful vegan choices on the menu! Let's split a wheatgrass shake and tofu Draadjesvlees!"
Sooooooooo….
I already hated her. What? Stop calling me intolerant! I'm absolutely tolerant…of people who aren't fucked up. She was fucked up. I will not be told I will be splitting fucking wheatgrass or tofu anything with anybody…especially on the first date… Even if they're super fine and naked. Maaaaybe if she was blonde and I was super whipped and the sex contained whips. Maybe. Otherwise, hell fucking no. She could kiss my taunt ass. I mean, come on! I just said hi and the first topic of conversation is 'LOOK AT ME! I'M SUPER VEGAN! EAT MY HEALTHY SHIT AND PRETEND THAT IT'S ROMANTIC BECAUSE I AM SHARING IT WITH YOU WHICH ISN'T ACTUALLY TRUE BECAUSE I'M FORCING YOU TO EAT IT BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T SAY YES YOU'LL LOOK LIKE A FUCKHEAD WHO TURNS DOWN GIRLS WHEN THEY ARE JUST TRYING TO BE CUTE ON A FIRST DATE!'
Barf.
I refuse to be that healthy. Nope, I have always liked my breadsticks and cigars and being single. You may be asking yourself why I enjoy the single life so much? The reason is because I can do shit as I please! I don't have to watch her bullshit TV, I can take out the trash when I feel like, I can look like a million bucks or a petrified turd and there's nobody to bitch at me about it. Nobody's there to judge my thirty gigabyte porn collection, I can make the bed when I want or never, I can look at any pair of tits I want and not get slapped upside the head for it, no in-laws, no snoring, no kissing her even though she has morning breath and refuses to ever take note of the pack of gum I strategically and thoughtfully left on her bed stand for her, I can choose the scent of Febreze I want, I don't have to pretend to have a headache when I'm feeling too fat to want to have sex, no dealing with their endless calls and texts and most of all…
I EAT WHAT I WANT.
If I want to eat a hamburger with bacon donuts as buns I fucking will scarf that shit down because that's how shit is done in the heights. It doesn't matter that I moved to Manhattan years ago, you can't take the heights out of the girl. That's how I was when I went on this crudebucket of a date and that's how I still am and that shit isn't going to change anytime soon.
"Umm…that's sweet of you..." I almost hurled, which is my body's natural reaction to any sort of thoughtful behavior on my part. Which is why I typically try to be myself as often as possible. I'm a selfish ass and as long as I act like one I don't need antacid. "But I'm really not one for wheatgrass." She briefly gave me a look that seemed to be filled with disappointment but then instantaneously perked up and started suggesting further things for us to share. Whoever said sharing is caring was not on a date with Rachel.
"Avocado bubble tea?"
I don't even have to comment on that one do I? She was trying to order a Japanese tea in the flavor of an avocado in a Dutch restaurant. All I could think was this over and over: Stupid straight friends and their shitty taste in women. Stupid straight friends and their shitty taste in women. Stupid straight friends and their shitty taste in wom-
"I wonder if the avocados are organic? Sustainable farming is an integral part of-"
Stupid straight friends and their shitty taste in women. Stupid straight friends and their shitty taste in women.
"How about a lemonade?" I offered. She gave me a tight smile before it softened.
"Sugar free?" I wanted to go into a rant about that this is why we have dentists but I suppressed it and gave her a nod and a smile so awkward, you'd think I'd just farted. I Santana Lopez do not fart. I repeat, wind of the smelly nature does not vacate my rectum under any circumstances ever. I also do not sweat, I glisten…since I got that armpit Botox shot because trust me, nobody's afraid of a pitted out lawyer.
"Sure, sugar free sounds fine." I took a sip of water and glanced around the restaurant only to have my eyes eventually land on a massive statue of an enormously fat cat with a leather jacket on and a cigar hanging out of its mouth. The décor was…classy, to say the least. How could a place this tacky have such high prices?
"Sooo….what do you do for a living Santana?" I cleared my throat.
"I'm a lawyer."
"Really? What kind?"
"Prosecuting."
"So, that's how you know Quinn…"
"Yeah, it is…and how did you two meet by the way?"
"She was looking to take her vocal technique to another level so she did a thorough search of Manhattan for the most qualified vocal instructors and found herself at my door. Because of my many years of dedicated study of my craft and solid credentials, I'm the second alternate for Lea Michele in Funny Girl on Broadway. So like any sensible person, she hired me on the spot. When I am not filling in for Miss. Michele when she is hurling backstage after thirteen too many coffees and vegan pizzas, I have made it my mission to teach aspiring singers how to reach their potential with various exercises engineered to strengthen and expand their ranges as well as work on their vibratos and enhance their timbres. But first before we delve into the nitty gritty of the intense but extremely fun and rewarding lessons I orchestrate from scratch, I make sure to do a full analysis of my client highlighting their high and low points so that I can create a one of a kind custom routine tailored to each students needs for not only making their dreams come true but also for taking care of their God given vocal instrument so that they can continue to share their voice for generations to come! Because In the words of the one and only Celine Dion, steam three times a day to make the rasp go away!"
Anybody else's vagina getting dryer by the second? Instead of wetness I swore I could feel a tumbleweed attempting to roll out my birth canal. The last time that happened was when I was still in the closet and bearding with the ample bosomed Finn Hudson.
"That…" Don't be a shithead Santana. "Sounds…." You can get through one conversation without being a prick. You can do this. You scored at the top of your class on the LSATs. You can manage to not be a gaping asshole for one evening. "…rewarding." Unconvincing but not intensely toolish Miss Lopez, good work. You deserve a pat on the back. You also should probably stop mentally talking to yourself as if you are someone else because it's weird and painfully narcissistic even for you.
"IT IS!" It was about this time that I felt a presence beside me.
"Welcome to Vijf Vlieghen. My name is Brittany and I will be your server for this evening. Can I get you guys started with some Frikadellen?" I didn't bother to look up or respond because who the fuck knows what that shit is outside of Holland?
"Do you have a tofu version?" Fuck, there is just something really annoying to me about someone who has to personalize their order everywhere they go. I mean obviously the woman was a vegetarian or vegan or whatever and that was fine as long as I didn't have to eat whatever bowl of dirt she was planning on ordering. But considering that they had options already for people who don't want animal products, why did she have to spend so much time asking the poor waitress if they could veganize dishes that clearly weren't meant to be vegan? Am I overreacting? I don't fucking care, she wasn't blonde, okay?
"No, I'm sorry ma'am but that isn't an available option." Rachel groaned in the least sexual way known to man and woman.
Seriously though, if you're a hot blonde woman in my book you can sit there and order for twenty minutes and I wouldn't give a laminated shit. But the reality of the situation was that she was a brunette chick with poorly done caramel streaks, a reindeer sweeter, penny loafers, a bang so thick even Zooey Deschanel would think it's too much, and a nose so gargantuan that it must have allowed her to determine if a batch of chow mien in some shanghai bachelor pad had gone bad or not from anywhere in the continental United States.
Girl was simply not on point enough to get away with that shit.
Period.
And no, I don't care if I sound like a cavewoman. I have taste and I was afraid her flavor would end up deadening my buds…ALL my buds.
"Once again, my condolences. But if it makes it any better we could make a tempeh version if you would prefer that?"
"While that is not the exact flavor that my refined palate desires in this moment in time, I do think that that would be an adequate solution to this less than desirable situation. And I feel that it is noble and thoughtful of you to bring this suggestion to the foreground of our discussion. Your tip will surely be positively influenced by this moment." She turned her head back in my direction. "Would you like to share Santana?" WILL SHE STOP ASKING ME TO SHARE SHIT?!
"I have no fucking idea what tempeh is." I retorted before I could stop myself. Good job, you've said two sentences and you've already alerted her to the fact that you curse like a sailor that has had his balls cut off. Classy Santana, Classy. I heard a snort from beside our table but ignored it.
"Oh really? Well Santana, you think you've lived? You haven't! It's a wonderful meat substitute. You will not regret trying it. You know, I really envy you. You have a whole world of magnificent taste experiences awaiting you." Says the woman who wanted me to ingest avocado tea.
"Fine, sure whatever." Santana, you're out on a date. Attempt to give a fuck. I know you don't like sharing but you do have a few fucks in your purse. Take them out and bestow them upon Rachel. Yes, that sounded mildly salacious. I worded it that way to keep your attention. It's fucked up when your own mind has to trick you into listening. Get your shit TOGETHER. GET. IT. TOGETHER.
"Okay, guys I'll get that right up for you." The waitress grabbed the menu I was still looking at in an effort to avoid looking anywhere in the vicinity of my disappointing date. I didn't see the rest of the person the hand belonged to but when her fingers wrapped themselves around the spine of my menu I noticed that said fingers were really…really long. Not that that mattered of course…I mean, sure Rachel had manly hands that had short stubby fingers that probably could only satisfy the reindeer on her sweater but whatever…
Just get through this bullshit Santana. Get through it. Stop thinking about how Rachel is not well endowed in any way shape or form. STOP.
"Are you a Barbra or Patti person?" Rachel delighted in her profound and obscenely enlightened question.
"Who?" She scrunched her unplucked 80's Brooke shields wannabe eyebrows in distress.
"Who do you like more? Barbra Streisand or Patti LuPone?"
"I've never really paid enough attention to form an opinion."
"How? Neither one strikes you when you go to a Broadway show more than the other? Because granted, they are both legends but I feel that Barbra's timbre and on stage command are simply riveting in ways that Patti, as much as she's a perfect goddess that makes my inner quiff sporting gay man squeal in delight, just can't hold a candle to. I simply feel Barbra is superior on all levels…OH! You must be a Bernadette person! Right?" She gave me an expectant smile as if to encourage me to purge my deepest darkest feelings about stage icons.
"Well…Umm…" I petted the back of my neck awkwardly. "I've actually umm… never been to a Broadway show before."
"WHAT?!" She yelped and did what anyone would obviously do in this situation.
She fainted.
Her eyes rolled back and her hand went up to her forehead dramatically as her body fell back into her chair and become what appeared to be lifeless.
"Rachel?!" I poked her nonsexually from across the table. "Rachel?"
"Is your friend okay?" The waitress reappeared.
"I don't know."
"I'll get some smelling salts." I turned my head just in time to catch the tail end of her speeding into the kitchen …which means just in time to notice her firm ass.
I like asses.
What? I do.
Rachel's wasn't bad but…it wasn't THAT. Rachel had an ass. Not a 'DAT ASS'.
There's a drastic difference. Ask Sir Mix-a-lot…Or Kanye.
But let's not pretend any of this really mattered. The goal was to get the FUCK through this date and I would and then I could tell my friends to stay the HELL out of my dating life. I would not end up failing my part of the deal. I couldn't handle another fucked up date like this one. A woman can only take so much!
The waitress reappeared, she leaned forward and as she placed the salts under nostrildamus's schnoz…her hair moved bountifully like it was in a Pantene pro-v commercial.
Her blonde hair.
Not that I noticed of course.
Such pointless details.
"Hopefully this helps your friend."
"Actually, she's my date…" I scratched the back of my head embarrassedly. I was one nervous tick and curse word away from getting diagnosed with turrets. Blonde good ass waitress gave me a weird scrunchy face in return. "Oh God, yes two ladies on a date. I know, HUGE DEAL!" I did a sarcastic hand motion that looked like jazz hands if they had PMS.
"No no…it's just…" Then the server made a motion as if to say 'Forget it'.
"No, what?"
"It's just, you two have the sexual chemistry of my pet rock crumbles and my cat Lord Tubbington. So I just assumed you were just friends. Sorry about that." She shrugged as if that shit was worded normally. The loud theater fanatic stirred a bit and then finally hiccupped back to life, much to everyone's disappointment.
"Oh my God." She gulped down some water and then spit it out gracelessly. "Can I get some filtered, please? City water could cause irreversible damage to my vocal cords and I have a four octave range that legendary vocal coach Doc Holliday says is a one of a kind. I'm looking to get it ensured with Lloyds of London in the foreseeable future so it is extremely important that no outside forces cause its demise." All Rachel got in response from our waitress was a look that made it abundantly clear that she wanted to punch her and holy tap dancing shit was it sexy.
Not that I would check out a waitress while on a date or anything…who does that? That's tacky.
I'm a classy demure woman. That goes without saying.
"Sure thing Ma'am." She turned around and strutted back to the kitchen.
Seriously, the woman's ass was on POINT. What? Everybody likes a nice ass. They're a fabulous feature that should be highlighted at all times; hence the dress I was wearing.
"I'm going to freshen up in the ladies room. I'll be right back." She smiled at me as flirtatiously as one can after fainting and then spitting out their water all over the place like an inaccurate sprinkler with restless leg syndrome. On her way to the pissroom she then did what looked to be a variation of a frolic that I assumed was supposed to look like a Fred Astaire Gene Kelly hybrid but really just looked uncomfortably spasticy. I sighed because seriously, this shit couldn't get worse.
"She's obnoxious, you should bail." I snapped my head in the direction of the voice. It belonged to the pretty waitress who was in the middle of putting a glass on the table and then pouring a bottle of Evian in it. I smirked because; this was kinda hilarious wasn't it? I mean this date was so shit that I did really want to jump off of a bridge but, it was still kind of funny. You gotta laugh a little when things go this tragically in life. It's the only way to survive.
"Getting dating tips from the waitress? Shouldn't you stick to telling me what today's specials are?" That would shut most people up but it only caused her to smirk back at me. There was a lot of confidence behind that smirk and it was pretty attractive. And by pretty I mean EXTREMELY.
"I'm not giving you tips for dating. I'm just informing you that your assumptions are correct. She's gross and you should walk out right now while you can. And today's special is gehaktbal."
"What the hell is that?"
"It's a giant meatball. And if your date asks, no we cannot make a meatless version. However, how about you order one, I have it express made, get you a doggy bag, and then you can ditch her?"
"Why are you SO adamant that I end this date?"
"I just think you should do it now before she starts getting the idea that you actually like her. You'll spare her feelings and have to spend less time with her, everybody wins." She shrugged. Her logic was wonderfully flawless; therefore, I couldn't help the cheesy smile on my face. Her smirk only increased.
"And what do you get?" Her eyes gleamed and wow they we're so gorgeous.
"Well, I'd know that you got to try a dish that we are famous for here and I'd also know that you likely won't get arrested for murder tonight since you would be out of her presence. And you know, I'd also get to see you get up to leave in that dress." I turned a little red and she bit her lip. I chose to ignore her flirting and replied to her prior statement.
"I can't just leave. This is a blind date and I promised my friends I'd get through it. If I do they will stay out of my dating life from now on and I desperately want that so I gotta finish it. Even if I have to listen to more stories about the troll's meteoric rise to understudydom."
"But you won't get through it anyway so you might as well stop it now."
"I think I will make it though this date just fine waitress Brittany." Her smirk became more mischievous.
"Sorry to tell you patron Santana, but you won't get through the second course. It's impossible. Not trying to get a saddle to stay on an angry unicorn impossible, but still, it's at least 111% impossible."
"Excuse me?" I folded my arms…I was pretty sure there was an insult in that jumbled up mess of words somewhere.
"You won't." She copied my arm folding.
"I won't WHAT?"
"Get through the second course of this date."
"Is this some sort of BET or something?"
"Maaaaaaaaybe." She shrugged and grinned and wow she had a beautiful smile. All the awards to her dentist…and to her parents for fornicating condomless.
"And what do you get if you win this so called BET?"
"A date with you." It was my turn to spit out my water.
"WHAT?"
"You heard me. If you don't get through this date, you have to go out on a date with me."
"And what happens if you lose?"
"I have to ask Rachel out."
"A VEEEERY confident woman you are." I perked an eyebrow and she shrugged once again.
"You gotta take risks if you're ever gonna achieve anything awesome in life." Before I could respond, a supposedly freshened up Rachel reappeared.
"Oh good you're here, I was wondering if the gehaktbal could be made out of tofu?" And the vein in Brittany's forehead looked like it was going to explode.
Did I mention that I thought she was obscenely hot?
-Five minutes and fifteen waitress involving pornographic daydreams later-
"Don't you hate it when artists mess up self portraits of you?" Oh yeah, that was a common non first world problem.
"It's a real bitch." I replied sarcastically and as expected, she completely thought I was serious.
"I know right? Ugh, you are SUCH a riot Santana. And I love your speaking voice. I bet your singing one is raspy and sexy."
"I wouldn't know, I haven't sang in ages." She let a loud gasp emit from her nonsexually well used mouth that made me think she was going to faint again. But she slowly collected herself by sipping on her Evian water, praying to mother Streisand, and humming what I was pretty sure was 'Papa can you hear me?'.
"We must CHANGE that Santana. Sure you will not be anywhere near me but I can feel you have talent. Deep in my soul I sense it so I think that it would be a disgrace if we didn't go to a karaoke bar on our second date."
Second date.
SECOND DATE.
SECOND DATE.
I'd sooner purposely catch herpes from Puckerman and then name our not so love child Puckette Saw Puckerman the twelfth and a half.
"Yeah Santana, I'm sure that would be a SUPER fun second date." Brittany appeared and offered smugly. I could only manage to glare at her. If she thought she was going to win this bet she had another thing coming.
"See, even our waitress can agree that there is no better bonding experience than coming together in romantic duet. I will make sure to get your email before we part this evening so I can send you an instrumental piano version of 'You don't bring me flowers" by Neil Diamond and Barbra so you can practice." She then nodded at her own ingenious plan.
I hate EVERYTHING.
"You are a lucky one Santana. If a girl did something like that for me, I wouldn't be able to keep the panties I always forget to wear on." Rachel scrunched her eyebrows in disapproval of our waitress's inappropriate bluntness. I did what anyone would do in this situation and imagined her pantyless. Considering the look on said waitresses face, she had clearly scored this round in her favor.
"While I appreciate your formidable taste in sensual evenings, I must ask that you do not bring up your own inability to wear undergarments in front of my date. It's not very professional and not only is it off-putting, it could get you fired."
"My dad owns this restaurant. I could walk out here with no pants on and I'd still have a job."
Mmmm…Brittany waitressing with no pants…
What?
I'm SORRY, there's just something about a woman working pantsless that's super hot. Considering the smug look on the blue eyed ones face, she had given herself a second point. I was beginning to get irritated with her arrogance. She needed a taste of her own medicine.
"That's good and fine Brittany, but abusing your power is not an alluring quality nor is it something on the menu so I have no interest in having any of it, even IF you are offering it complimentary. So if you will please just take our order so I can continue with the evening that I set out to have with my date I would appreciate it." Rachel beamed at me clearly finding me taking charge to be exceedingly sexy and it was in that moment that I realized there was yet another massive problem with this date.
Rachel was TOTALLY, through and through, 120%...
A bottom.
You may be thinking, okay, what's the problem with that?
The problem is that I'm one too. Well, I like to think of myself as sassy. I don't let you easily have it and from time to time I like to be the one in control but…nothing turns me on more than coming home after a long day of kicking asses and taking names at work to then find a hot naked woman in my livingroom who desperately wants to bend me over my outrageously overpriced leather couch and then give it to me hard from behind. I fucking love a dominant strong hot blonde and by the grin on our waitresses face…I think she had figured that little piece of information out.
So…Even if Rachel wasn't clearly from some low rent sale bin version of Yentl, we would be completely sexually incompatible. The woman wouldn't even be a good fuck, let alone a good girlfriend. It was hopeless.
"Please excuse my vulgarity. What would you two like?"
"I think we would like to share a vegan Sudderlapjes Met Witlof. I am however still sad that this fine Dutch establishment does not offer a cruelty free Gehaktbal." Brittany gave her an expression that said 'I'm sad to see you didn't die chocking on your water'. I gave the jazz hands fetishist a glare too because clearly I wasn't a vegan and wouldn't you at least ASK if I wanted to share? Okay, I had asked earlier for her to stop asking me to share but that doesn't me to just order for me! I wouldn't ASSUME she wanted a meal with meat in it just because I did and it doesn't go against my morals. What an insane inconsiderate crazy narcissist.
"I'm not in control of the menu ma'am. I can only tell you what is available and what is not and currently there is no vegan or vegetarian option for that particular dish."
"Well I say take it up with your father, since you have so much control." She sing songed the last word obnoxiously. "Now, if you will excuse us, I think we'd like a little privacy to enjoy our date."
There we're so many things wrong with that sentence I didn't even know where to start. Brittany huffed, scribbled down a few things, and left again.
Was it me or was the view of her ass just more and more impressive with each sighting?
"Can I be blunt?" Rachel asked and I gulped because…hadn't she been pretty blunt all evening? I nodded slowly and cautiously.
"I find you extremely attractive. From your excessively tight dress that leaves almost nothing to the imagination, to your mocha skin, to your velvety smokey voice, to your long black silky hair…that seems to have a razor blade sticking out of it…" She trailed off as I scrambled to get it back in place. "And you're so strong and…authoritative…and jealous." Jealous? When was I JEALOUS?
"Jealous?"
"Back there, when the waitress was making comments, you were all over her defending me and…" She bit her lip in a way that looked like the bastard little pudgy sister of Brittany's lip bite. "I don't want to come off like a skanky ho and I'd normally never do anything like this but…I really want to invite you over to my house for an all night sensual coitus session later on this evening."
Did I seriously hear what I thought I heard?
"Ummm…" I fidgeted. She then softly placed her softball mitt like hand over mine tenderly.
"Just think about it, okay? No pressure. I just, I wanted to be honest with you."
"Okay, umm, thanks…Will you excuse me for a second?…"
"Did I say something wrong? I knew I was coming on too stron-"
"No no, I just need to use the restroom, I'll be right back." Upon standing I realized my dress had ridden up. Both Rachel and Brittany, who was coming out with our appetizer, seemed to approve of the view. I yanked it back down and made my way to the restroom. I washed my hands about nine hundred billion times before I texted the shithead that was responsible for this clusterfuck.
From: HBIC
I fucking hate you
A reply by was instant.
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Oh come on, Rachel is great. What have you said to offend her?
I sent the following reply to my posse of moronic horrible friends.
From: HBIC
GREAT? The bitch offered me a sensual coitus session after dinner tonight!
From: Effy
And the problem? We've already discussed that you need to get laid girl. So, go on wit your bad self and lay with the girl!
From: Mrs. Moneybags
And this way I don't even have to pay for it! Which by the way, if this doesn't work out, that offer is still on the table.
From: Neil Patrick Harris
I know you've talked about what fingers mean to lesbians but you've got to stop being sizeist! You'll never find a woman if you stay like that. Get to know her before you judge her sexual abilities!
From: HBIC
I didn't even text you Kurt! And I wasn't talking about her fingers…even though they are super stubby.
From: Neil Patrick Harris
The ladies have stated that this is a red alert so they figured a little pep talk from one gay to another could be of use. Well that's what they told me, clearly all of your friends are gossipy girls that always think they're having a sleepover.
From: HBIC
Kurt you would hate her. She's evil.
From: Neil Patrick Harris
Oh my GOD! You should end this date! You've clearly found your sister Satan!
From: HBIC
CRAM IT. I am not nor am I related to Satan. I look MUCH better in red thank you very much.
From: Neil Patrick Harris
I plan to get it crammed later on tonight by my boyfriend. I suggest you take up Rachel's offer. We all know how you get when you're not checking out other ladies carpets and you've been even more that way as of late. Do it for yourself, but more so do it for the poor baristas at Starbucks that have to deal with your moods at six in the morning. And P.S. You do look better in red.
"Texting for help already?"
"Ha ha ha." I put my phone away and glanced at the waitress as she walked into one of the stalls. "Nobody seems to take my S.O.S. very seriously."
"Your friends suck almost as much as your date. And considering that you are hiding out in the bathroom and we haven't even gotten to the first course yet, I think I'm winning our little bet by a landslide."
"It's still early in the game. No need to get cocky." The toilet flushed and she glided out with a smirk and began washing her hands.
"I'd never DREAM of getting cocky Santana." I blushed. "And besides, it's a game you don't even want to play so of course your heart is not in it to win it. I've offered you a perfect solution. Just bail and then we can play much funner games without her."
"Oh well, you're a little behind on that one Brittany." She gave me a quizzical look. "She already offered me those type of games for an entire evening later on tonight." She dried off her hands and stepped right in front of me breaking my personal bubble.
"And what type of games would those be?" Her voice lowered and her head cocked to one side.
"What kind do you think?"
"Well, if my thinking is correct, I promise you…I can make those games happen much," Her hand grazed my exposed shoulder. "Much faster."
"You'd have sex with me before having a first date?"
"I would have had sex with you before we said hi."
"We never said hi."
"My point exactly."
"So you're a slut then?"
"No, I'm a sexual woman who likes other sexual women that like women…." She sauntered behind me and turned us towards the mirror. "...meaning you." She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Besides, she's a bottom and we both know it."
"Do you typically go after all your women like this?" She swept my hair away from my neck and placed a few soft long kisses there. I felt myself turn into putty.
"If I really like a woman then yes, but…" Her kisses traveled to jaw and then back up to lightly bite my ear. A rather embarrassing satisfied sigh escaped my mouth. "Not too many women make me want to do the things I want to do to you right now."
Anybody else's vagina like a slip and slide right now?
"Let me give you an appetizer for the meal, Santana." She looped her fingers in my straps and slowly pulled down my dress revealing my strapless bra and torso. I tried to nudge us towards a stall but she was having none of it.
"Nuh uh. Right here, baby."
"What if somebody walks in?"
"Then they will have some great material for their wank bank." WANKY. Her hands messaged my breasts over my bra softly at first and then became deliciously rough. I desperately tried to contain my noises of pleasure as I tried to get as much body contact with her as possible by pulling her hips against my ass. She unclipped my bra with one hand expertly and tossed it on the ground. She then looked me in the eye via the mirror and pinched my incredibly hard nipples.
"Shit…" I squeaked out.
"You want them in my mouth?" I gasped as she continued her ministrations. "Answer me. Do you want me to suck your tits Santana?" I nodded rapidly. "With words."
"Yes, fuck yes."
"What else do you want me to do to them?"
"Ugh Brittany…" I hissed when she flicked my hard peak with her fingers.
"Because I think I want to lick in between the valley of your tits and make you wait for it, mmm, I wanna make you beg, baby."
"Shit please, I can't take it."
"Around me you'll learn there's a lot of things you thought you couldn't take that you can." She groped my core and fuck…my dress was going to have a spot there. "You'll not only take them, you'll love them. You'll want more. You'll want me deeper and harder as I make you wetter and come stronger. Do you want me to make you come?" She bit on my pulse point as she squeezed my tit and wow this was the most delicious kind of torture.
Then she so rudely removed both her hands from areas I desperately wanted them. Of course I couldn't help but groan my dissatisfaction with the lack of her on my body. Brittany moved in front of me, grabbed my thighs, and effortlessly lifted me. Her ability to support my bodyweight with such ease was such a turn on I couldn't help but swoon. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around her clearly very strong abdomen. I went to do the same with my arms and snuggle into her neck but she shook her head. She lifted me a little higher and dove into my breasts. Her mouth immediately latched onto one of my so hard it hurt nipples and I moaned absurdly loud at the contact. One of my hands went behind her head and the other pinched the unattended to nipple and my eyes, for the brief seconds I was able to keep them open, watched the whole thing in the mirror. She sucked, and licked, and bit my peak to the point I thought I could almost have an orgasm from it until she moved her head to the other one. Before she did the same things to my other breast she sucked my fingers that I had been using to pinch myself into her hot mouth. The lustful stare she gave me as she practically deep throated my digits was enough to drive me into the loony bin. Sexier people didn't exist. That I was sure of. She returned to my breasts and bent me backwards as she kissed down my stomach…holding me in her strong arms the whole time. She was filth. She was devious delicious filth and I couldn't wait for that mouth to go even further south until…
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" You know a woman's determined to please you when she doesn't stop christening your stomach with love bites even though she's been caught in the act.
"Brittany…" And she still kept going. "BRITTANY!" I gently pushed her head away. She finally turned it to see a man in his fifties with graying blond hair.
"Oh hi Dad!" And then she waved. She WAVED. Yes people, she held me up with one arm under my ass and used the other to wave at her father, like she had just come across him at a theme park or something.
"OH HI DAD? You're supposed to be serving the customers…not SERVICING the customers!"
"Then you should get an uglier demographic." I couldn't help the snort that escaped my mouth. The man turned bright red and looked like he was about to flip out when I heard the pitter patter of little feet followed by this wonderful declaration:
"Santana if you're having issues with your bowels there is nothing to be ashamed of. I keep my all natural herbal vegan solution with me at all times – OH MY GOD!" She yelped after she finally looked up and saw me still topless in Brittany's very strong…sexy arms. What? She had been holding me for a while…it was kinda impressive…and pussy moistening. "You went to the bathroom to engage in sexual activities with our waitress? And here I was thinking I was too forward with you?! My generous invitation for sensual coitus at my Manhattan loft is officially revoked!...And you're paying!" She did a divaish hair flick and 'humphed' before stomping dramatically back out of the bathroom.
The three of us left stood there for a second without a peep before the older man cleared this throat and spoke up.
"This is just unacceptable Britta-"
"And you know WHAT?" Rachel re-entered yelling. "You're a classless thoughtless disgusting SKANKY HO! And I hope her vulva gives you syphilis!...AND I HATE LEMONADE!" She then out diva hair flicked herself and flourished out the door again only to crash into a waiter. "You got meat on my Lea Michele complimented sweater you buffoon!" She could be heard screaming in terror. Brittany's father shook his head; clearly finding this evening to simply be too much.
"I never thought I would do this to my own daughter but… you're fired! You can turn in your tie at your soonest convenience." He then left looking supremely disappointed. Once again, we ended up in complete silence before the sexy lady I was in the arms of broke it.
"Soo…about that date…."
"You can't possibly be serious."
"Of course I'm serious." She set me back down on the ground and helped me with my dress and bra in a way that made me remember the wetness between my thighs. By the time she kissed just above my cleavage I remembered it vividly. "We should definitely have that date, don't you think?" She kissed my neck and lightly bit the mark she had left.
"I think it's in the cards." I bent my neck to give her more kissing room.
"Uno or go fish?" She peppered the area while her hands possessively grabbed my ass.
"Go fis-Fuck."
"You're an ass woman, aren't you?" She slapped it nice and hard and my core jolted. My clit was about ready to jump out of my body.
"Jesus Britt!"
"Aren't you?" She massaged the area before giving it another nice hard slap.
"Fuck! Yeah," I gulped. "I am." She backed up and gave me a once over; clearly proud of my disheveled appearance.
"I look forward to finding just how much so on our date."
"And on this date…could we just skip the eating part and get straight to the good stuff?" She backed up towards the door and smirked.
"I'd NEVER skip the eating part Santana." I turned bright red and there was that grin that reached her beautiful blue eyes "Oh and honey, you said some naughty things so if you've noticed, I placed you in front of the sinks so you can wash out that dirty filthy mouth of yours." She gave me the sexiest wink I had ever seen and then cascaded out the door. My expensive lacey panties were ruined and I was sweaty and I had sex hair even though we didn't have sex and I had to have been in that bathroom for a long long time…and my phone buzzed…
From: The Skanky Church Goer
RACHEL IS FUCKING PISSED! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?
I glanced at the door the hot waitress and just strutted out of.
From: HBIC
It was a disaster date but tell Mercedes I'm gonna get laid anyway. Sugar can keep her money. And also, you straight bitches have the worst taste in women ever. EVER.
From: The Skanky Church Goer
Are you DRUNK?
I floated out of the restroom with an 'I just had sex' smile on my face even though I hadn't and glided out of the restaurant with pure confidence. Damn it, I strutted with resolve.
Maybe, just maybe my single life could go on hold for a little while. I mean, I think I could possibly spare a few moments of my 224 free minutes a week on the absurdly layable waitress…
Out of nowhere long arms grabbed me and pulled me against their bosom harboring chest, I turned to see a bundled up Brittany with a winter hat on. She was cute as hell. Like I wanna pinch her cheeks cute. How could someone be so adorable yet so overtly sexual at the same time?
"When's our not blind date?" I questioned. She gave me a kiss on the temple before whispering,
"How about tomorrow morning in my kitchen?"
"No." She was taken aback by my abrupt dismissal.
"Ooh…umm…" She backpedalled nervously, clearly embarrassed that I had shot down her forward offer. I placed my finger over her pouted lips before ghosting them with my own.
"Tomorrow morning in mine." Her concern and disappointment turned into a blindingly bright grin as she pulled me into a kiss that made my knees buckle and lady bits engorge like flotation devices. Noting that continuing such activities would most certainly lead to public nudity, I grabbed her mitten covered hand and guided her back to my car.
I shouldn't have had such a crappy attitude towards dates.
They can be pretty great.
When they're not blind.
Oh and when they involve you waking up to a really fine chick with an amazing ass who insists upon cooking for you in your own kitchen whilst naked...
Those kind of dates are can be pretty damn awesome too.
*plays go fish* LOL. And some people think Pezberry would be a good couple *giggles furiously* THINK I just proved that one wrong hahaha. And before anybody asks, at one point I myself was a vegan so no, this isn't like an ANTI vegan anything. Santana just doesn't want to eat vegan food and is ignorant about the culture. But more than that she mainly wants what she wants and she DOESN'T want Rachel. I like looking at reviews like Santana likes looking at Brittany's ass. Each additional viewing just gets better and better and each time I see them, I find something I didn't notice about them before.
Hmmm…maybe I should write the morning after someday? ;)
Thanks for reading and reviewing guys! I really appreciate it! I hope to post things a bit more often. :D I am writing a full length story and it is coming along.
And no, Celine never said that haha.