Everyday Psychopaths Page 17

  ***

  Mindy’s quiet during our walk to the restaurant. I'm not really in a talking mood either after my fight with the red-faced retard. I need a hardcore drink to clear my head. I of course also understand her reluctance to shoot the breeze - I must’ve made quite an impression for all the wrong reasons. I don't want to apologize though, because I prefer to be intimidating than to come off as a nutcase with a temper problem, which might be closer to the truth.

  I try to ask her some random personal questions to loosen her up, to at least get on talking terms. How does she like New York, does she have any hobbies, and so on. She says she's into yoga (which spells “limber body” to me), she likes to read books and has two chubby cats living with her. Cats are the sign of lonely women, so I feel slightly hopeful she's single and approachable. There's nothing better than women to take my mind of myself.

  As this is a kind of date in my twisted mind, we go to one of my favorite American Noveau restaurants. I want to impress Mindy and the splendid mix of French and Italian food, along with a spectacular goose liver pate, should do the trick. Angela has booked us my favorite window table and as we sit down I immediately order two pre-lunch Martinis. God knows I need at least one.

  “Sorry, but I’d rather just drink water.” Mindy laughs nervously at the proposal of starting her first working day with a cocktail. She’s obviously a rookie.

  “But it's only one drink! And we’re celebrating!” I give her what can maybe be interpreted as a crazy look, unintentionally so.

  Mindy’s surprised by my sudden change in moods - from asshole to suitor in one go.

  “What are we celebrating?” she says.

  “That you joined us of course! It's a welcome in liquid form. All good things come in liquid form.” I chuckle at my own joke, which is bad and makes me sound like an alcoholic. And it's dawning on me that it might actually be true.

  “Yes, but I want to stay alert during the first day and I'm not really good at handling alcohol,” Mindy says.

  “But it's only one drink,” I beg, now a bit excited by the possibility she might not be able to handle it.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Mindy says, sounding a little irritated by my nagging.

  “Ok,” I say grumpily, “that means one more for me.”

  I should have guessed Mindy was going to be a sober bore. She had some of the characteristics and it also fitted in with my recent streak of bad luck.

  I decide to drink anyway and forget about my dreamed-up chances of lunchtime intercourse. Mindy’s locked up like a clam and as soon as I try to get a bit private with her she crawls back into her shell. It's good to be professional, but it can really be a buzz-kill as well. Mindy's closed-ness sadly leads me to be the narcissist I can be and I end up talking about myself for basically the entire lunch. Mindy stays polite and pretends to listen to everything and deep down I feel so lonely I actually appreciate her bored company.

  Problem is, I soon get a little too intoxicated for my own good. I'm on my third glass of wine (to add to the two martinis) when I suddenly get the feeling I desperately need her to open up a bit for us to get just a little closer. So I cross the line and ask her if she has a boyfriend. It doesn't come out as casually as it was intended and she looks a bit taken aback, but says yes, she has, his name is Todd and they're engaged.

  I make a disappointed slur and finish my third glass of wine. “Shame on a fine girl like you. We could've really hit it off.” I look out the window. It's a sunny day and yet I feel like it's raining on me.

  Mindy must be shocked at my audacity. I’ve broken every rule in the book and she's likely considering some kind of legal action. She drinks her water and looks like she wants the glass to swallow her and spit her out as far away from me as possible.

  I know how she feels.

  END OF SAMPLE.

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