Starbucks Bad Dates: Part Two

I love listening to bad dates at the Starbuck. Check out the bad date that was happening concurrently to this post here.

Two middle-aged types tried to rekindle the sparks over pound cake and frappuccinos.

That one ended in a not-so-good fashion too.

In hindsight, it was doomed to failure from the start. The couch, three of the small tables and all three comfy chairs were taken when they came in, so they wound up at one of the four-person tables.

Now, when you're on a date, you don't sit side-by-side. You sit facing each other so as not to give off mixed signals. You don't want legs to touch or anything - at least not on a first date.

So, they sit and stare. Awkwardly. Very awkwardly.

She's the matronly type in kind of loose slacks and a blouse with ruffly neckline. It is a purple flower print that is - in fact - ugly. It does nothing for her - and she shouldn't be wearing it. Her hair has been permed and bleached far too many times and is in a confused dirty blonde state right now. It might be natural. It might not. It just sort of hangs there. I feel bad for her. She's fifty-something, on the chunky side and doesn't know how to dress.

And this man is no catch. Balding, wearing the ugliest blue plaid shorts (WHO DECIDED PLAID WAS BACK?) and a black T-shirt. I mean, really? That's what you wear to a date?

So, they pick at the pastry and try to make conversation. They talk about their kids. Their job. Sort of half-heartedly.

There is no connection. None.

Unread missed connections have more of a connection than these two.

Sad really. They both look like they need love. We all do.

But I keep getting distracted by his bald head, since it is exactly in my line of sight. I look up - and BLAM. Bald, with four black hairs in the comb-over.

She's folding and twisting the pastry bag now. Not a good sign. For the record, when your date starts fidgeting, cash in the chips and get on with your night.

Comb-over tries to rally. He leans forward, trying to interest her in some tale about his work and some silly office antics. It sounds reasonably amusing - like, general office pranks that aren't actually harmful and involve people with a sense of humor.

Sad Sally Pound Cake gives a half-hearted laugh and starts making a knot out of the pastry bag before staring out the window.

There's a long silence.

They drink their coffee.

They stare at the table.

Sad Sally Pound Cake flicks a crumb off the table. She spins the pastry bag art around in her hand.

Silence. Sip.

Comb-over pulls his chair back, looks at her and asks "Should we just leave?"

They leave.

We all need love. We all need love.

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