Last Date

"Damon?" My name, so I looked up in the direction of the voice, only to see the one person I had no desire to ever speak to again.

"Francine," I nodded, quickly turning to try to join the conversation I'd been studiously ignoring for the last five minutes. A sufficiently polite response, given the social situation we were in, without in any way inviting further interaction.

The awkward one-sided, sideways hug suggested probably not.

"It's been so long! You're looking so great. How're things?"

I'm socially awkward. I don't always know the right tricks. I'm sure there's an appropriate way to extricate yourself in these situations, but I don't know what it is. A conversation it is.

"I'm good thanks, Fran. How are you?" I enquired, turning back and feigning interest.

"Great! So great. Life is going great," she replied. Triple great. Even with my limited social skills, I wasn't convinced. "Are you dating anyone? You never called me back after that night." She still looked good, to be fair. And knew it. So I decided to honesty worked best.

"Actually, Fran, I haven't been on a date since the night we split. Figured I was done with dating given how that turned out."

I heard the poorly hidden giggle from one of the conversationalists I had not joined. Good. Maybe there was a route out of this awkwardness.

"You haven't been on a date in five years?"

—

It had been a great date. The latest in a line of eight great dates. Until it wasn't.

The last six dates had been overnighters, so I was surprised when she turned back to me at her doorstep and put her hand on my chest.

"Dame, it's been a great evening." The restaurant lived up to the hype, and we'd danced for hours at a gorgeous little jazz club. All in all, a pretty great Christmas Eve.

"I've decided that I'm going to give my marriage another try. Randy's been back in town and I've spent the last couple of nights with him figuring things out. You can still stay here of course, but I didn't want to wait any longer before letting you know."

Fuck me. I'm four hours drive from home, at her parent's vacation cottage. I'm down $400 on the night with set menus, covers and drinks. And I actually really liked this woman. Until now. Though I guess it says something that she came third in the list of reasons I was pissed off.

I think half-hearted would be exaggerating, if I describe her attempts to call me back as I turned without a word, and walked away. She did say she'd call me if things didn't work out. Yay me! Delusional bitch.

—

I'd only been driving for 20 minutes when I realised it wasn't going to work. I wasn't in shape to make it all the way. But the diner up ahead on the right was open.

I wasn't the only one there. Or the only one alone. But I was the only one under the age of 90 and alone. Well, me and the waitress.

"I'm surprised you guys are open tonight," I asked, once the seating and ordering were taken care of.

"The joys of my folks being Orthodox," the exotic-looking young lady replied. "My folks won't do anything that acknowledges tomorrow as Christmas. Except giving the entire staff the night off, and roping their only daughter into service." Though for being on the graveyard shift, she said it with remarkably good-humour and affection.

"What brings you here on this joyous night?"

—

"Francine! I haven't seen you since graduation!" Ah, a saviour.

"Gia?"

"You'll have to ignore Damon. Think's he's a world-class comedian. It's not true. Just because I took pity on him on that snowy Christmas Eve, and took him in."

"You didn't let me leave for four days. It counts as a single date," I'm re-treading well-worn ground here.

"We went to Mass. You insisted."

"We went together," we've got this routine down pat. Our friends are evenly split on who's right.

"We went to Damiano's the NEXT week."

"By which time we were engaged. And living together. Doesn't count as a date." Francine is still there, but I don't think either of us care.

"If I concede the point, will you get your ass on the dance floor so we can have one last twirl before we head home and wake the kids at midnight to wish them a Merry (Heathen) Christmas?"