Samantha, that evening’s lucky lady, happened to live very close to Kingston train Station, and it was with a sneer that Guy passed it, remembering that he had the public transport to contend with for at least a couple of days next week too.
Soon he came to Samantha’s house.
Samantha and him were on a partial blind date. Well sort of anyway. It was a friend of a friend deal where they had briefly clocked eyes on each other at a work do, and then later on decided they were both lonely enough to attempt a date. Naturally Guy didn’t realise that Samantha felt that way, God’s gift to woman that he thought he was. So it was with a certain bravado he climbed the front path to her glass porch and front door.
He rang on the doorbell, and noted that her path could use a good weeding.
A few moments later and Samantha came through the interconnecting door and into the glass porch. She was wearing a knee length tunic style A line dress, bright electric blue and very eye catching. Guy appraised her and found himself suitably impressed. Her nose didn’t even seem as long tonight with her hair in that half bunch like that.
'Interesting,' thought Guy. 'Maybe she's worth more investment than I had originally intended. Maybe I'll take her to the expensive wine bar instead.'
They exchanged embarrassed greetings on the door consisting of a peck on the cheek, and Guy extended his arm to lead the way down the path.
He cringed when they came to his brother’s car.
“Sorry about the state of this shit thing,” he said hurriedly. “Mine’s in the garage so I had to borrow this one.”
Samantha smiled coyly at him.
“That’s what they all say on the first date,” she replied. “Then it turns out that they usually don’t even have a car at all!”
Guy was aghast.
“Look, I’ve even brought out the police report and everything to show you,” he said, withdrawing a slip of paper from his jacket.
Her eyebrows shot up into her blond fringe.
“A police report? What’s that for?”she asked, wondering at the same time why on earth he’d brought it to show her. Was he that desperate and shallow?
Guy, feeling somewhat desperate but not at all shallow, quickly handed her the paperwork across the top of the car, and climbed in it, lent over and unlocked her side. Samantha slowly got into the car while she looked the piece of paper over and also noted that he hadn’t held the car door open for her.
“Smashed in window eh? Thieves having a go no doubt.” She handed the slip back to him as he started the car.
“Fucking bastards tried to make off with my stereo.”
The two of them passed the short amount of time it took to get to the cinema theatre. The date was to be a movie, then drinks at a bar where Guy intended to impress her with his knowledge of cocktails and get her drunk, then back to his for sex. That was his plan anyway.
Thing’s didn’t go exactly as he’d have liked however. The first stumbling block was when the movie got going, and Guy came face to face with Arnold Schwarzenegger as the leotard wearing Running Man.
He sat shocked and open mouthed at the screen. Samantha turned to ask what was wrong.
“Well it’s homosexual pornography they are promoting!” he exclaimed loudly, making the guy in front turn around in his chair and glare.
Samantha was a little shocked and frowned at him.
“It’s hardly porno graphical. He’s fully clothed!”
“You can see his bulge,” Guy hissed loudly in her ear,and Samantha snorted with mirth.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, laughing still and turning back to the movie.
Guy noted her reaction and decided to sit quietly. She obviously enjoyed this kind of filth on the screen. Then he would sit through it too, although he had planned on walking out. For over the next hour, Guy sat there reluctantly and his emotions changed from disgusted, to horrified, to enthralled, to disgusted in quick succession as the movie played out. Samantha on the other hand seemed to be enjoying it all. Was she some kind of psycho killer nut job, he wondered?
The next thing to go wrong on Guy’s plan was that she didn’t drink very much, and as he began to show off his knowledge of cocktails, she began to yawn. She obviously didn’t care about the best way to construct a tequila sunrise. She also didn’t seem too interested when he juxtapositioned the constructions of said tequila sunrise and his favourite Dungeons and Dragons clay figurine. He knew he was losing the battle here to win her into his bed, and decided that the only thing for it was to bail out fast and try again some when else before the entire night was a wash out.
So he suggested they leave, and she agreed quickly.
The two got back into the yellow car, and Guy drove them back to her place. The night was definitely still quite young, so he decided to push his luck, seeing as he’d had to go through the inconvenience of that film after all. Maybe she’d invite him into hers instead if he played his cards right? He killed the engine on the ridiculous car, and watched as she began to reach inside her purse for her front door key. He knew she was trying to speed things up, but maybe if he showed her a bit of manly macho action like on that movie she’d be putty in his arms?
So as Samantha began to make her excuses and say her goodbyes in the car outside the house, he suddenly lunged forcefully forwards in an attempt to overwhelm her with his passionate kisses. Unfortunately she wasn’t prepared for his intentions, and concentrating on her handbag, she looked down at exactly the same time. His teeth crashed into her forehead, biting down hard and causing blood to pour into his open mouth.
“ARGH!” he cried, pulling back and grabbing his front teeth, sure that they were no longer there. The pain was shooting into his skull, but his teeth miraculously were still sitting where they ought to be. Samantha however wasn’t. She had flopped limply forwards, straining her seat belt, saying nothing at all.
Oh good god I’ve killed the stupid bitch, he thought in horror, and he tilted her backwards in the chair. Blood had spread all down her face and around her eyes, making her look like she was wearing a red rubber mask.
“Samantha!” he shouted, shaking her. “You stupid whore, what have you done?”
She began to frown and groan, and with relief that spread to his groin and made him feel like pissing himself, he saw that she was in fact not dead, just concussed.
One hand flew to her forehead, the other one batting him away and she groaned again.
“What the fuck?” she slurred.
Guy wasted no time at all, and jumped out of his side of the car, running round to hers. He opened the door, lent over her body to undo the seat belt, resisting the urge to cup her breast while she was semi conscious and heaved her from the car.
Then he half dragged, half helped the poor woman walk to her front door.
“Come on, let us in,” he said cajoling, and Samantha fumbled in her purse for the key, operating on some sort of autopilot.Together they grappled with the lock, and finally she fell through the porch, into the house, and onto the sofa in the front room. Guy stood in the glass porch, uncertain of what should be done.
“Just leave will you?” she managed to say, before cradling her head in her hands and beginning to cry. He didn’t need to be told twice.
Guy grabbed the front door key from the lock, let himself out shutting the door behind him, and locked it again. Then he posted the key through her letterbox, shouted 'I'll call you' and turned and ran down the path to the yellow car.
Not the most successful date ever, he thought to himself as he drove away.
