My Nine Year Date

By: J.T. Evergreen
The poetry in writing is the illusion it creates.
(© 2017 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

jtevergreen@tickiestories.us

“Okay already, it’s a gay date.  So, if you’re not interested in love everlasting and hot erotic encounters, go away.  Pick up your copy of Engineering, or Golf, or International Twiddle Sticks, stick your nose into that and enjoy yourself, if you can.  Or better yet, go find yourself a straight date, that is, if you can find one. That — would be comical.

“Actually, I’m fibbing about the first and have no hopes for the second. I’m alone and feel like shit. What have I been doing wrong all these years that leaves me withering like a dried up tree trunk on the side of the road —  soon to topple over and be trampled underfoot.

“I’d give my eye teeth for a good solid, meaningful relationship with anyone — other than my left hand. Why is making a commitment so difficult?”

“What the hell are you rambling about?”

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were back. Who was at the door?”

“UPS, with your birthday present. Thank you.  How did you know it was just what I wanted?”

“Because you’ve been dropping hints.”

“Me? Dropping hints? Never happened. But, thanks; it’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. Will you marry me?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said, will you marry me?”

“And why would I do something like that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you care about me.”

“I do care about you but why would I want to ruin a perfectly good friendship?”

“Why do I even talk to you? Goodbye.”

“Wait a minute. Mike? Are you still there?”

“Yes. I’m still here … as always.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Better that than nothing.”

“How about I take you out to dinner? Better yet, I just got my tickets to Madam Butterfly. Come with me.”

“Oh, that sounds like a real fun evening — watching Pinkerton ruin Cio Cio San’s life. And by the way, in the true Japanese tradition, both parts were played by men. No, thanks. Think I’ll stay at home … alone, and watch re-runs of Perry Mason.”

“Oh, God. I’m coming over.”

“No, don’t do that. I never want to talk with you again.”

‘click.’

“Mike?  Oh, shit.”

‘buzz buzz buzz.’

“No one’s home. Go away.”

“Open the goddamned door or I’ll break it down.”

‘buzz buzzzzzzzzz Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”

“Okay already.”

‘door opens a crack’

“What do you want?”

“Take the chain off and let me in.”

“What for?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About you and me.”

“You and me? That’s a laugh. Go away.”

‘bang.’

“Mike, please. Open the door.”

“Go away. Leave me alone.”

“You stupid shit head. Open the fucking door.”

“I love it when you get romantic.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Romance, you jackass.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“For starters, yes.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Gee, what a surprise. Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because … I’m afraid.”

‘door opens a crack.”

“What did you just say?”

“Please, Mike. Open the door. Don’t shut me out like this.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“… Commitment. It terrifies me.”

“With me?”

“Yes, with you. I’m afraid I’ll mess it up and lose you.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yes, holy shit. Now, please open the door and let me in.”

“Let you into what?”

“… Your life … your heart … your mind … your soul.”

“Why has it taken you so fucking long to say that?”

“I don’t know. Caring, loving … scares the crap out of me.”

“I’d never hurt you. You know that. Well, not unless you wanted me to.”

“Stop it, I’m serious.”

“Marry me, Pete. Let me show you there is nothing to fear — ever.”

“I don’t know.”

“Bite the bullet you bastard and take me out of my misery.”

“Okay … I will … bite the bullet, but first let me in.”

“Okay.”

‘bang, rattle, door open’

“Come on in.”

“Just so you know, I never do anything on my first date.”

“Very funny. At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor. And just for your information, we’ve been on this bloody date for nine years.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, it has.”

“I have a confession to make.”

“Which is?”

“Your birthday present.”

“What about it?”

“I’m not sure what it is?”

“You said it was just what you wanted.”

“I know. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“So, now you’re ready to hurt my feelings?”

“Mike!”

“It’s a glow in the dark dildo.”

“That much I got, but what’s the crank handle on the end for?”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not kidding.”

“Shut up, come here and meet your fate.”

The End.