With one hand Tony lazily stirred the Bloody Mary in the stubby little glass that sat on the table in front of him with the customary stick of celery that had come with it. He coolly slid his other hand into his left trouser pocket and tickled the groove between his ball sack and his inner thigh through the lining of the fabric. His gaze was fixed on the woman sat opposite him, scanning, weighing; measuring. He fought hard trying to suppress the sneer that was threatening to pierce his otherwise waxwork facade.
“Hi I’m Sarah” said the woman.
“Steve.” He replied monotonously, hoping that his delivery gave him the kind of smooth laconic drawl that women in the movies loved so much. He waited, allowing a pensive silence to settle upon the table.
“Gosh.” She said, unable to stand the tension anymore.
“Hmmmm.” He widened his eyes slightly, dipped his head a little and shrugged his shoulders.
“This is nice isn’t it?”
“Isn’t it?”
“I love the decor don’t you?”
“Yes, it reminds me of a little place I used to go to in Mumbai a few years ago.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Business.”
“Ah how lovely...So, what do you do Steve?”
Tony bit his lip rakishly, being sure to make eye contact whilst he fumbled around for an impressive untruth.
“I’m the manager of a hotel.”
“Oh goodness that sounds exciting. Which one?”
“Oh you wouldn’t know it.”
“Come on Steve, try me!”
“Really, it’s out of town. You just wouldn’t know it. Hey, you never know, play those cards of yours right and maybe I’ll take you some time.”
He immediately cursed himself. Far too forward. Arrogant. She had sat a little farther back in her chair, defensive, wary, looking confused. He cleared his throat, took his hand out of his pocket and placed it on the table and laughed mechanically and without real emotion.
“Oh Sarah, thats enough about me for now. Tell me about yourself, I’m seriously keen to find out about you.” He considered touching her hand with his, lightly brushing the knuckles in a friendly reassuring manner. He decided not to. Instead he waited.
“Well ok. Like I said, my names Sarah. I- er- well this is the first time that I’ve ever used, gone through an agency. Blind dates really aren’t my thing, I prefer wine bar meet and greets. Less mystery.”
“One thing you’ll learn about me Sarah, is that I just love mystery.”
She ignored him.
“I’m a little nervous if I’m honest.”
“Don’t be babe. I’m serious.”
Her pupils dilated slightly and her outsized lips parted, the merest whiff of a smile was apparent.
“You’re too kind.”
Tony nodded regally.
“Go on.”
“Ok well I live here in the city, got my own place and everything. Not too far from here actually.” She paused at this and looked at him briefly. Tony raised an eyebrow imperceptibly.
Bonjour.
She continued.
“I’m working full time in an office at the moment.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m with a company that is responsible for building electronic exam papers. It’s quite worthwhile actually; we do voiceovers, written transcriptions, programming and stuff. We design for all the bus companies, Siemens, mechanical enginee-”
“And how do you find that Sarah? It sounds truly truly intriguing.”
“Oh it’s ok. I see myself in a kind of transitional stage at the moment. See I’m mainly involved in logistics but if I knuckle down and put my mind to it I think I could get a real shot at management within the next 5 years. Either that or maybe even creative” The final word was uttered as an almost breathless whisper, as if it was too precious a notion to be uttered allowed, a sacrosanct dream that she dared not give voice to.
“Ah Sarah, the echelons is clearly where you belong. I can tell.”
“Yes!” She took a gratuitous swig of her wine. Sated, amused, content.
Tony nodded sagely. His hand slowly crept back down to his pocket where it continued with the slow methodical massaging of his ballbag. He chose his next sentence carefully.
“Sarah. Would you like another drink?”
“Oh yes please I would.” She giggled nervously, adding almost as an afterthought. “Thank you Steve.”
“Oh it’s quite alright.” He smiled thinly and sipped his Bloody Mary. He grimaced slightly; he found the drink nauseating, rather like drinking cold soup or some kind of Mexican sauce, he had only bought it because it seemed like the kind of drink that a man like Steve would enjoy. “Don’t you just love a little spice in your tipple?” He chimed, raising his glass and rolling his eyes slightly.
“I can’t say I’ve ever tried one of those.”
“Well you simply must!”
“Do you really think so?”
“Sarah darling. I know so." He laughed out loud boorishly and looked at her conspiratorially "the wheels are in motion, and I’m in the driving seat.”
Sarah guiltily looked around the room and smiled back at Tony, her vacuously thrilled countenance spoke volumes.
He opened his blazer and pulled out a wad of notes, all of his dole money bundled up and folded, gangster style. He raised a hand loftily, signalling the waiter. He placed his order casually and succinctly, running a hand through his thinning hair as he did so. He slipped a five pound note into the surprised waiter’s hand as he ordered the drink.
“Tell me more.”
It was all too easy. As Sarah continued Tony watched her, barely registering a word she said other than the vital details, getting just enough information to keep abreast of the conversation. He peppered her with carefully considered looks, encouraging smiles, fatuous laughter and condescension. It kept her talking.
As she talked he exhaled, blowing the air in his mouth through the gap between his two front teeth in a quiet lonely whistle. A bubble of saliva puttered at the corner of his mouth tremulously. He felt hollow inside.
“Gosh just listen to me I’ve talked for ages. You must be quite bored.”
“Oh no not me.” A thin smile.
“I want to know more about you Steve. What’s your story?”
He took a deep breath and delivered another quick stare.
“Well my father was a doctor and my mother was a teacher. I was the middle child, there was my three brothers and me.”
“The middle in a brood of four?” He watched her attempt to work this out and acted quickly.
“Yes it was quite the household! Danny, Barry, Terry and I.” He sighed wistfully “We grew up fast and played it loose. That was just the way it was.”
“Are your family close?”
“We were...Once.”
“Oh?”
“Well...they’re gone now. It was all very sudden.” He looked down at the table and stifled a sob, taking some rather deep breaths as he did so.
“Oh you poor baby.” She reached across the table and held his hand, her long red fingernails dug into his fist which still held the stick of celery from his fourth Bloody Mary. He made note of the garish golden rings she wore.
“Yes it’s certainly been a tough few months Sarah.”
“Oh this happened recently?”
He nodded slowly, failing to meet her gaze.
“This is the first time I’ve been out properly since it happened. With a woman I mean-”
“Oh Steve.”
“I know, you must think I’m such a loser.”
“NO!”
“Yes!”
“No really I don’t.”
“You...Do you mean that?”
“Of course baby of course.”
“Thank you. Thank you so very, very much...Sarah.” He sniffed.
“Think nothing of it you darling man. Why don’t you take a moment?”
“Thankyou, I didn’t mean to get all upset like this. It’s just, so very hard sometimes.”
“Take as long as you need.”
He sat then, his mind completely empty of thought. He passed the time by staring at a Tippex stain on his trousers. He should have had the damn things dry cleaned.
After some moments Sarah softly murmured.
“Steve?”
“Yes Sarah. Don’t worry about me, It’s ok, I’m fine. Tell me, do you like Chorizo?”
Sometime later on they had eaten their main course and were waiting for their dessert. Over the dim glow of the candlelight Tony looked across the table at her. She was not particularly pretty. She was pale skinned and slightly slack jawed, she had downturned fishy lips and her mouths natural position was to constantly gape. Earlier on Tony had been half tempted to throw some of his olives in there, just to see if she’d notice. Her hair was long and clearly well looked after; featuring resplendent blonde highlights that began at her centre parting on the top of her head and that cascaded down the lengths to her shoulders in a stream of lugubrious piss soaked yellow. She wore a tasteful dark female suit and had a slight pink kerchief that she had tied about her neck. Pearl earrings were buried in the lobes of her ears, reminiscent of Christmas crystal baubles, well intentioned but clearly lacking that certain something.
“You do look lovely in this light Sarah.”
“Oh Steve, stop it!”
“I mean it. I know I’ve only just met you but I’m really feeling something right now. You’ve got a special quality about you that I just can’t put my finger on.”
“You’re incorrigible! Do you know that?” She ran her foot up the inside of his calf lightly and looked at him then, that mouth red and open like a piece of butchers liver sliced clean down the middle. Her eyes shone brightly and lustily, fixed upon him with a steady precision that he found both satisfying and nauseating.
“I need a toilet break.” He said.
“Well what shall we do about the bill?”
“Why don’t you arrange for it to be sent over and we’ll split it.”
She said nothing. He looked at her as he stood and opened up his arms.
“Hey baby, this is the Twenty First century.”
In the toilet cubicle he snorted two railroad lines of cocaine, one up each nostril. He pissed in the toilet and went and stood in front of the mirror. There he looked at himself. His eyes were saucer wide and his hair was thinning to nothing on top. He inspected the mole on his chin and bared his teeth broadly, they gleamed white. He stood staring at himself; staring hard and looking deep into his own eyes until it seemed like nothing else in the world existed except those two black dots within his skull. He felt nothing. He felt the pounding of his heart in his chest and imagined it exploding inside him, the feeling of iron pain in his left arm, the weakening of his knees and the white light bursting in a blissful cloud over his vision. He often wondered about his own inevitable death, curious as to how it would come and whether or not he would be at a juncture of his life where it would actually mean something to him or anyone else.
It didn't matter; everyone alone and nobody to know anything about anyone other than what they show them. His eyes told their own story he decided. No life, no mass, no identity. No loss, no cares. He left the toilet breezily.
He made his way back to the table, chucking a handful of notes onto the metallic saucer on the table. He stood in front of Sarah, offering his hand down to her as she sat on her chair looking up at him. His silver bracelet chain tumbled down his wrist and touched the tip of her fingers as he pulled her up and close to him gently. They kissed.
