A/N - 'Pocket Rocket' can mean something different depending on where you are from. I'm taking the term to mean a 'petite, vivacious woman'. She can fit in your pocket and makes you go off like a rocket. (In British slang, it refers to something else entirely!)
I'll admit this story is influenced by something incredibly minor, watching this tiny waif of a woman, definitely only about four foot something, ordering a coffee one day while I was enjoying a drink of my own, and I immediately had an idea for a story.
Australian / British standard English. There is a good chance of: profanity, characters drinking, typos, mistakes, and bad grammar at times.
Proofreading and editing suggestions provided by OhDave1. Any mistakes within this work are still mine.
Comments are appreciated as always. I read all of them.
Feedback by email is always welcome. I enjoy chatting with anyone who likes my work.
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"How's the dating scene out there, Chris?" Mike asked, glancing around the table to see my four friends already looking at me rather expectantly.
I finished sipping at my pint before managing a rueful grin, and shaking my head. "Be glad you four are not having to put yourselves out there again. It's a minefield."
"Any dates lately?" John wondered.
"A few. Some get to a second or third, but I just haven't met anyone where I feel that instant spark. One woman has actually turned into a friend, and while we didn't have that spark, she's already suggesting that she'll introduce me to some of her single friends."
"Online dating?" Greg suggested.
"Already doing it and it's fucking awful. Too many women expect us to be performing monkeys just to get a few seconds of their attention. Already deleted the apps and I'll do things the old-fashioned way. You know, actually just approach a woman who might look interested. If I strike out, I'll just try again with someone else. Plenty of men have been rejected over and over again until meeting someone they feel they can establish that connection with."
All the questions were due to the fact I was a recently divorced thirty-something man. Thankfully, I'd come out of the divorce with the townhouse, as it was only my name on the deed, I'd paid the deposit and could prove I paid the majority of the bills towards its upkeep, and I was relieved that we hadn't started a family when she decided that she needed to go 'find herself'.
That meant she wanted to go out and fuck other guys while keeping me as her back-up plan. I told her to get fucked, kicked her out, and divorced her as soon as I was legally allowed.
She was still messaging me at least a couple of times a week, pleading with me to take her back. The only reason I didn't block her is that the whole situation was laughable. I knew she was regretting what she had said, but I wasn't stupid. I knew she'd been out 'finding herself' ever since I kicked her out. A few of her friends liked me as a friend and kept me up to date with the situation. All of them told me to not take her back.
I ended up staying until nearly midnight with my friends as we sank a couple more pints, watched both games of footy and enjoyed a meal as well. As we all lived in the suburbs, the only way to get home after sinking a few drinks was by walking or some sort of taxi. I preferred to walk, enjoying the night-time spring air, sharing handshakes and well wishes before I began the short walk home.
Arriving home to an empty house was something that took a little getting used to once my ex-wife had left the marital home. I had considered getting a pet, but the backyard wasn't really large enough for a dog, and I was wary of getting a cat. The walls had been empty of anything for a long time after she'd left, as I had endeavoured to erase any sign of her presence in the house, but I found enjoyment in buying a few art pieces and also had other photos and things that interested me dotted around the house.
It was lunchtime on Tuesday when I received a call from Charlotte. She was the woman I'd had a date with, where there'd been no spark, but we'd still enjoyed a wonderful conversation, and she was the one to ask if I was interested in just being friends. I thought you could never have enough friends, and I also thought having a few friends of the feminine persuasion couldn't be a bad thing.
"
I'm hosting a barbecue next Saturday and wondered if you'd like to come along?"
she asked.
I couldn't hold back the groan, which made her laugh on the other end of the line. "You're going to try and set me up with one of your friends, aren't you?"
"Not specifically. But there will be quite a few single women there."
"And how many single men?" The silence was my answer. "I'll be the only one, won't I?"
"I may have let slip to a few of them that I met a wonderful man a couple of months ago, and while we didn't have that spark, he's a good man and I probably have talked you up quite a bit since then."
"No pressure. Thanks!"
"I'm sure you'll be just fine, Chris."
She paused before adding,
"There is one woman that I'd really like you to meet, Chris. She's such a sweetheart but doesn't have much luck in the dating world."
"Okay, I'm not doing anything next Saturday, so I'll come along."
"Thanks, Chris.
"
"You having any luck out there?"
"Not really. Definitely given up on the online dating thing for the time being. Might end up taking your approach. Hope to meet a good man somewhere."
"Shame none of my friends are single..."
"I'll find the right man eventually. But if I can help you find the right woman at the same time..."
"And you think one of your friends is the right woman?"
Silence again before she said softly, "
I think you're going to absolutely adore Hailey, Chris. She's so damned cute and adorable, and I reckon she's going to take one look at you and introduce herself."
