2
"Seriously?" Owen asked with surprise, "I thought you two would hit it off no probs."
"He was such a know-it-all" Jack sighed "Would you believe he actually quoted fucking Shakespeare?"
"Really" Owen sighed as he shook his head, he worried that Jack would never find someone.
"Shakespeare" Jack repeated with horror, "Not exactly a cuddly thing either with that skinny body, that look of distain and this suit that was…was…. Gods. I can't stand someone who is a bloody walking factorum"
.
.
.
.
Jack shivered as he looked at the man seated opposite at the table, his suit so shiny it might have been something from the Hoodlum Quarter or something and Jack swallowed some more wine as the man sniffed at the cutlery and then motioned for the fork to be removed and replaced with something 'cleaner.'
"So" Jack finally decided to speak "You work in a book store?"
Gods he wished he had picked another question as he really didn't care to know the ins and outs of ordering a book online from the publisher, or the on-line books doing an honest man out of work blah blah. Ergh. A nerd.
I mean … it had started with the wine, the sniff as the bottle was rejected out of distain for the colour of the foil. The foil? What the fuck? Some waffle about years and different ribbons too but Jack really didn't care at this point, already knowing this was just gonna be a shit date anyway.
Some Welsh name he couldn't even remember as he nodded in the right places and wondered how long it would… he slid the phone out of his pocket and tried to covertly text Owen for help but then dropped it, leaning over to pick it up and getting a good look at the tenting in the man's pants …. Oh shit. Like … a pimple struggling for air. A mushroom about to nose it's way to freedom through the dirt of the shit coloured pants….ewwwwww …Jack sat up with wide eyes, grinning as he shakily said it must have worked its way out of his pocket, the boring one now starting on a rant about cell phones and testicular cancer from overindulgence in the pocket or some shit Jack nodded to as he poured himself another healthy helping of wine.
Fuck.
Shoot me now.
"So, what do you do for a crust?"
Finally a break in the conversation and Jack was happy he had been paying attention at that moment so he smiled "I'm a cop."
Now the silence seemed to draw as the man pursed his lips and blinked, "Like…. Heddlu?"
"Yeah, did some training over in America but when I came home I knew I had the qualifications…."
"Qualifications. You know, it's a myth about the drain of…."
And he was off again, Jack now poking at the shrimp cocktail with interest, taking a bite then chewing as he wondered about a case he and Gwen were poking around with. Then there was this … crunch and Jack spat out the mouthful with horror to look down at the shell. A snail. A tiny little snail had been in the salad and he had….
"Something is rotten in Denmark?" the man leaned forward and then grimaced, "Ew. Did you swallow any?"
Jack looked at him.
"No."
"Good, best you swill your mouth a bit…I mean … the goodnight kiss need not be slimy" the man grinned, "Mind you, with a mouth like that … John said you were….ah…talented."
Jack rose, opening his wallet and flicking some notes on the table, "That's my share. Dutch right?"
He left the restaurant with that sick feeling he had swallowed some, his mind playing tricks as that voice whispered that he might have swallowed while chewing, he did eat like a pig and the man called after him "Hey, we didn't exchange numbers."
Jack pulled the collar of his Great Coat up as he muttered, "Well thank fuck for something going right tonight."
He was going to kill John for setting this up, what the hell was he thinking? Welsh? Thin and weedy? A fucking nerd who quotes shit? Really?
Jack felt the burn as he stormed along the street.
"Funny John. Real funny you sick fuck." Jack snarled as he imagined slapping him silly for this deliberate attempt to piss him off "Some joke. I would never go for that type."
Not some…some… glorified librarian!