In Which I Write a Story as a Challenge
I can also engage in writing terrible fiction if part of a challenge. This is just a first draft. If I had more time, I’d probably do this more as a screenplay than literary.
“I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve even tried to be in a relationship. I can’t even remember what I’m even looking for,” I told my friend Brian over the iced coffee I really didn’t want to buy, but felt I had to at the coffee shop.
“Look, man. At this point does it even matter who you try to go after. There are a few girls here,” Brian said glancing around, “all you have to do is accept that there’s a good chance your social awkwardness will get you rejected.
Brian continued looking around the coffee shop until his eyes became fixated at a table where 2 girls sat across the room.
“Look at that one against the wall with the glasses. I bet her bosom would make you dream,” Brian whispered.
“Who the hell uses the word ‘bosom’ these days?” I thought to myself, but I let him continue.
“She’s the perfect person to start for you. I’ll just play wingman with the other girl while you go introduce her. Just so you don’t get all nervous on me, just try to figure out what she’s drinking. I’ll buy drinks next time we go out if you do,” Brian challenged me, and though I was extremely nervous my legs were walking in the same direction toward that table on the far side of the room.
A variety of panicked thoughts went through my head. “Does my hair look alright? It’s kind of cold in here. I hope she’s single,” those kinds of thoughts. Before I could compose myself, I was suddenly standing in front of my target. She looked indistinguishable from afar, wearing a red sweater and jeans. She was also a lot taller than I initially imagined.
“So, uh, hi. My name is…Joe. What are you drinking there?” I blurted. I thought it was about the worst thing I could have ever spoken. I quickly glanced over at Brian, who was already in the middle of a conversation with my target’s friend. Oh, how I wished I could do that easily.
“You don’t really do this often do you?” she responded. “My name is Kate, and I’m drinking a hot chocolate because my friend Amy dragged me here because she wanted to meet someone.” Her bluntness calmed me down, and I pulled up a chair from an adjacent table.
I looked over at Brian and told him, “You dick; you had this planned out all along.” The other three at the table broke out laughing.
I spent the next 3 hours talking to Kate before the coffee shop closed. We didn’t buy anything else, nor did we notice that the other 2 had left us much earlier. Needless to say, it was the one trip to the coffee shop I needed to take.
