Blind Date

by Philip Mason

Synopsis: A seemingly regular blind date soon becomes irregular as the loyalty of friendship is put to the ultimate test. 

“Oh my God, Nina, he looks like he’s stuck in the 80’s,” said a girl who looked like she was stuck in the 60’s. She adjusted her velvet minidress and brushed her hand through her long, straight, red hair that was parted down the middle. She watched her friend’s boyfriend and his friend walk through the front door of the trendy sushi bar toward her. “I hope he’s showered since then.”

               “Relax, Bridget,” said Nina, gripping her purse tight and standing on her toes to see over the heads of the patrons of the restaurant. She fluffed her short blond hair with  her fingers to give it last minute volume. “Martin’s very cool. He’s a musician and he’s probably the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet on a blind date. I can’t see them, do they know where we are?”

               Bridget waved her arm in the air until she caught the attention of Nina’s boyfriend. “Yes, they see us. What’s this guy’s deal? This is Warren’s friend? Why doesn’t he dress anything like Warren?”

               “Do his clothes really matter that much to you?”

               “I guess not. His hair does, though. Is that a mullet? He’s getting closer. I’ll be able to tell in a minute.”

               “Seriously Bridget, give  it a rest. Just try to have a nice time, alright? You begged me for this, to be set up on a date. You can’t back out now. And so help me God, if you cause a scene or fuck this up tonight just because you don’t like Martin’s look, I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

               “I’m not going to fuck anything up, Nina. I’m just making an observation.”

               Warren and Martin emerged from the crowd of people and joined Nina and Bridget.

               “Hey, baby,” Warren said, as he hugged Nina and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You guys been here long? We should get a table.”

               “We put our name in,” said Nina. “The girl said it would be five minutes.” She turned to Martin and smiled big. “Martin! This is my beautiful friend, Bridget!” She grabbed Bridget by the shoulder and pulled her closer to Martin. “And Bridget, this is Warren’s beautiful friend, Martin!”

               “Hi,” Martin and Bridget said at the same time. Bridget stuck her hand out for a handshake but Martin opened his arms for a hug. Bridget could tell he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer so she hugged him. It was a tight hug that smelled of cloves and light beer.

               “Warren’s told me a lot about you,” Martin said. “I was telling him, when we got here, that you looked like Audrey Hepburn,”

               Bridget wrinkled her forehead as an initial response, but managed to open her mouth as a follow up. “Really? My hair is nothing like Audrey Hepburn’s. But thanks, I guess.”

               “I mean your face! You’re absolutely stunning, like Audrey Hepburn.”

               “Aww!” Nina cried. “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard! This is going to be an amazing night!”

               “He does have a mullet,” Bridget said, turning to Nina. “I was right.”

               Martin and Warren laughed, and Nina blushed. She grabbed Bridget tightly at the elbow and gave her a look that seemed to say, “strike one, bitch. You ruin tonight and you’re done.”

               Bridget took note of Nina’s warning clutch. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” She smiled at Martin. “Nina says you’re a musician. What do you play?”

               “Van Halen, mostly,” Martin smiled.

               “What is that? Is that a drum?” Bridget asked.

               Martin laughed. “Oh, no. I play guitar. I’m in a Van Halen cover band. He’s a guitarist, had a band, we play their songs.”

               “The table’s ready!” Nina shouted. “It’s vibrating!” She took the flashing and vibrating buzzer to the hostess in the corner who showed the four of them to their seats.

               As they followed the hostess, Bridget continued getting to know Martin. “And what kind of music does he play?”

               “Rock and roll, baby.”

               “Well, that’s nice.” Bridget didn't care for rock and roll and never understood people who did. “Very neat. How long have you played?”

               “I’ve played as long as my hair.”

               “What?”

               “Been growing it for 5 years, been playing guitar for 5 years.”

               “Looks like it’s not growing so fast in the front.”

               Martin pushed his hands through his hair. “Nah, I trim the front, you know? Keep it short. It’s layered, kind of. Not really a mullet.”

               Bridget sat down next to Nina at the table, and Martin sat down next to Warren.

               “What do you do?” Martin asked. “Like, for a job.”

               “I work in a bank right now,” she replied. “But I’m in art school, and I finish in a year.”

               “So you’re a banker and an artist! Interesting combination. What kind of art do you do?”

               Nina slid her shoes off under the table and began rubbing them on Warren’s leg. A grin crept across his face while her toes galloped on his inner thighs. Do what you want to me, his eyes said. I will ravage your body below this table like I’m the sexually deprived queen of Mexico, her eyes said back.

                “Sculpting is my focus,” Bridget said, as she paged through the small paper menu in front of her. Sushi wouldn’t have been her first choice for a blind date, but this night wasn’t about her. “I’ve studied all sorts of it, from ancient Egyptian sculpture, Eastern and Western Asian styles, to Baroque and Neo-Classical.”

               “That’s really neat. I don’t know anything about sculpture, but I like statues and shit. What do you sculpt?”

               Bridget set her menu down. “The human form. I’m very interested in sculpting the perfect human body and creating beauty with my work. I think the human body has a lot of underappreciated features that make it beautiful. I like to highlight these.” She immediately regretted saying this as she became aware of the can of worms it had opened.

               “Wow, the human body, huh?” Martin sat upright in his chair and smiled an open mouth smile that let Bridget see all his teeth, his gums, his tongue, his tight lips, his dimples. She didn’t like any of it. “I guess you need models for your work, right? I’ve heard of people posing nude for artists. Is this the kind of stuff they pose for?”

               Warren let out a gasp, followed by a muffled giggle. Nina’s toes continued their sub-table expedition quietly while she turned to look at Martin.

               “Yeah!” she said. “Bridget needs nude models all the time for sculpting! Right?”

               “Yes,” Bridget replied calmly. “But the school brings in models for our class. We  have the same male and female models every time. An Austrian couple who’re in very good shape.”

               “Anytime you need a model outside of class, I’m available.” Martin winked and chuckled proudly at his own wit.

               “I don’t know,” Bridget said with a smirk. “Skinny, mulletted rockers with bad teeth aren’t exactly the kind of beauty I’m going for.”

               “Fuck!” Warren shouted, grimacing in pain and throwing his hands under the table to grasp some unseen region.

               “Sorry!” Nina offered quickly to Warren, before turning to Bridget and grasping her again at the elbow. Her warning stare returned. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said through clenched teeth. She stood from the table and pulled Bridget with her toward the bathroom.

               “What happened, man?” Martin asked.
               “Ahh… my…” Warren muttered. “I must have sat on my balls.”

               “Ouch, dude. You need to go to the bathroom, too?”

               “Nah, no. I’m fine. Why’d they leave? I wasn’t even paying attention. The menu, you know. Lots to choose from in this place.”

               Martin put his hand through his hair. “Bathroom. You know girls. Toilet parties are always more interesting with more ladies.”

               The door to the women’s bathroom flew open to make way for Nina and Bridget who were still attached by hand and elbow.

               “I’m sorry!” Bridget said. “I just don’t like him!”

               “You don’t like him? You don’t know him and you haven’t even given him a chance!”

               “He smells like cloves and light beer, Nina. You know clove cigarettes and light beer killed my dad. It’s too soon.”

               “What’s with your mean little jabs about his teeth, huh? His teeth are fine.”

               “No they’re not. I can tell he’s never had braces or had professional whitening done. The guy’s a mess! And for christ’s sake, his hair! Mullets are fucking disgusting!”

               Nina set her purse down on the long counter top of sinks and pulled it open. “Bridget, I just wanted a nice night out. You haven’t been on a date in three years because you’re too much of a bitch to every guy who approaches you. I tried to help you. I’m trying to help you right now, right here, tonight. This is all for you!”

               “No it’s not! This night’s all about you getting pregnant! You just thought it’d be nice to have me in the same room as you when it happened! You had Warren bring Martin so you could set this up as a double date so I wouldn’t feel like a third wheel when we all went back to your place after sushi!”

               “If you want to be the godmother to my child, you need to be in the same room during conception so your spirit energy goes into my uterus. You know how this works, Bridget!”

               “No, I don’t know how it works! Does Warren know your plans for tonight? Huh?”

               “This doesn’t concern Warren.”

               “How does this not concern Warren? He’s going to father a child with you and it doesn’t concern him?”

               Nina pulled a wad of cloth out of her purse. “It won’t be his to raise. That child will be my return vessel to youth. The medium through which I achieve immortality.” She sighed. “I didn’t want to do this.” She set the wad of cloth next to the sink and turned to Bridget, moving in close to her face.

               “What is –”

               Nina grabbed Bridget and pushed her face to hers, forcing her tongue into her mouth, and her lips against Bridget’s. The kiss lasted for ten seconds of closed-eye friendship. Nina pulled away and opened her eyes to see Bridget’s eyes full of tears.

               “Please,” Bridget said. “I don’t want to…”

               “You have to. I told you to behave yourself, but you had to go and… ugh.” Nina grabbed the wad of cloth from the sink and began to unfold it. There was something inside. “I’m going to need more of your hair.”

               “But, I don’t have any more of that kind of hair.”

               “Bullshit, Bridget. I know you do. You’re still in the 1960’s, I know you haven’t shaved your pubes in months. Now give it to me or I will take it.”

               Bridget’s tears streamed down her face, and she realized she had no  choice in the matter. She lifted her velvet minidress and pulled down her panties. “Just… take it,” she sobbed.

               Nina dropped the wad of cloth to the floor, and held in her hand a small statue, about six inches tall. It was covered in curly red and blond hairs. She reached between Bridget’s legs and pulled off a long piece of red pubic hair. She pressed it onto the statue; it was held in place by a sticky film that covered the statue’s surface.  Nina then pulled down her own skirt, stuck her free hand down her panties, and removed one of her own pubic hairs. She stuck it to the statue. “Now give it your blessing,” she whispered.

               Bridget muttered syllables that sounded ancient, prehistoric, inhuman. They were words Nina had taught her. 

               “Now a teardrop,” Nina said. She stuck the hair-covered statue against Bridget’s face, under her eyes, and allowed a couple teardrops to fall into the entanglement. “Go back out to the table. I’ll return shortly.”

              

               “So I tell him, there’s no way I’m letting that guy put his mouth on my penis … for more than ten seconds! Not for less than five dollars!” Warren finished the end of his story, hands drawing imagery in the air, just as Bridget returned to the table and sat down across from Martin, who was still laughing at Warren’s incredible tale.

               Bridget dried her eyes and noticed a plate of sushi waiting for her.

               “We ordered for the two of you,” Martin said. “We didn’t know how long you’d be. Warren said he knew what you liked.”

               “Thanks. I think Nina’s going to be a few more minutes.”

               “Should we wait for her?” Warren asked. “I don’t really wanna wait. Kind of hungry.”

               Bridget shook her head. “Go ahead.”

               “Are you alright?” Martin asked. “Your eyeliner’s running.”

               “I’m fine. Wait – eyeliner? I’m not wearing eyeliner.” She rubbed a finger under her eye and observed it. A black liquid was smeared on her skin. “Shit. I’ll uh… I’ll be right back.” She stood up and left the table.

               “So,” Warren said, turning to Martin, with his mouth full of sushi, “the guy offers me ten dollars! Ten dollars not only to let his friend put his mouth on my dick, but to put his fingers inside me! I’m like, guy, are you kidding me? For ten dollars I’ll let your entire family live inside my pee hole! Haha!”

               Martin broke into uproarious laughter.

               Bridget pushed the door to the bathroom open to a cloud of thick, black smoke. A disassembled smoke detector was lying on the ground, and an enormous fire engulfed the middle of the bathroom floor.

               “Oh my fucking God!” Bridget shouted. She ran from the bathroom and grabbed the attention of the first waiter she could find. “There’s a fire in the bathroom!”

               The waiter looked at her, unsure if he understood. “What?”

               “A fire! In the bathroom! I think something’s on fire!”

               The waiter’s eyes grew large. He ran around the corner into the kitchen, and pulled a fire extinguisher from the wall. “The women’s bathroom?”

               “Yes!” Bridget followed him as he ran.

               The bathroom door flew open, and the thick black smoke poured out through the doorway. The waiter sprayed the fire extinguisher at the fire, putting the flames out in a matter of seconds. As the smoke floated away, the charred remains of a human body became visible on the floor.

               “Oh… fuck,” Bridget said. She held her hand over her mouth and knelt down to put her head below the smoke. She went to her knees beside the burnt corpse. It was Nina. The remaining clothes and the jewelry made it obvious. “Oh my God, Nina.” Bridget’s tears returned.

               “What the fuck?” the waiter asked. “What – who? Is that a person?”

               Bridget didn’t answer. A few feet away, on the floor, she found the small six inch statue covered in blond and red pubic hair. She picked it up and pulled it close to her chest.

               You bitch, Bridget thought. The statue had been dabbed with black eyeliner. This was evidently in an attempt to get her attention. Her eyes moved back to the burned corpse of Nina. She realized the tragic truth. “You’re in here, now, aren’t you?” Bridget said, looking at the statue in her hands. “A little self immolation after my final blessing of this little statue I made for you, and you’re all set?” She closed her eyes as more tears squeezed out and rolled down her cheeks.

               “Who are you talking to?” the waiter asked, still standing in the bathroom, horrified by the body lying on the floor.

               Bridget stood up with the statue in her hands and walked out of the bathroom. As she walked back to her table, holding back her sobs, waiters and other employees of the sushi restaurant rushed, seemingly in slow motion around her, to attend to the problem of thick black smoke that now filled much of the restaurant. Customers were getting up and leaving, others were coughing and ducking away from the smoke, while restaurant staff tried to assure everyone that the fire had been put out and everything was fine.

               As she returned to the table, with  tears still in her eyes and the statue held firmly to her chest, she looked at Warren and Martin. They were still telling stories and laughing heartily, unaware of the smoke from Nina’s corpse slowly wafting through the restaurant. Bridget knew she now had to make a choice. Warren or Martin. Tonight I have to fuck one of them. I must become pregnant so that Nina has a vessel for her next life. For immortality. She looked again at the statue. You won’t be stuck in this statue much longer, my friend. A new body will soon be built for you.