Not Again, Just Once

Shante banged her head on the wooden kitchen table repeatedly hoping to give herself a concussion as Jane went through the current list of eligible bachelors in town.
“Dexter Wallace! I forgot about him!” she chimed.
Shante sat up and cocked an eyebrow. “His name’s Dexter?”
Oblivious, Jane continued. “Percy told me about him. He’s a really laid back guy. Has a good job, a car, has his own place…”
Shante smiled and feigned interest at the shallow description she was given. “How many fingers and toes does he have? Does he breathe oxygen? That’s a deal breaker if he doesn’t, you know.”
“Shante, why are you always so bitchy about guys?”
“I’m just picky about who I want to waste my time on. It’s bad enough I don’t get along with most females.”
“Well, you get along with me just fine,” she retorted.
Shante coughed and looked away. “You know I hate dating.”
“If you don’t go on at least a few dates, you’ll never settle down.”
There it was. The eternal “truth”: every woman wants a husband; every woman needs to get married. Shante gritted her teeth whenever she heard it. She found the presumption nauseating. Did she want a man? Sure, if the time, circumstance and man were right. She was content with her life at the moment. What would come would come, no point rushing anything.
But by friends’ standards, the hands of fate moved too slowly. She’d been single for two years now and there was nothing more vexing than a content single woman amidst a host of blissfully unhappily married people.
“It’s not like you have to marry him or anything,” Jane reasoned. “Just go to dinner and hang out with him for a few hours.”
She cringed on hearing that word. Coming from anyone else, it may have meant nothing, but Jane’s utterance of the M-word showed her ulterior motive, despite what she’d convinced herself of.
“So where’d you scrape this cat up?” Shante asked. “Does he have a ‘great personality’ too?”
Jane sighed. “OK, Khalil was a mistake. We just thought you guys would make a cute couple.”
Shante was indignant. “Just because two people happen to be black, single and live in the same city, doesn’t mean they’re a match made in heaven.”
“That is NOT what we were thinking!” Jane protested. “And besides, Dexter’s white. He’s Percy’s cousin.”
Are you lying, stupid or just completely in denial? Shante thought. What better way to disprove the jacked up reasoning behind your actions than to the swing the pendulum in the opposite direction?
“Do I have to be nice to him?” she asked.
“Shante!”
She sighed, held up her palms in resignation. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.”
“Great!” Jane beamed. Immediately she opened her cell phone and set in motion the wheels that would roll in Shante’s next unwanted encounter. She pulled the phone away and covered the receiver with her hand. “Percy wants to know if it’s OK for him to give Dexter your phone number.” She giggled uncomfortably, adding, “that way you can talk and get to know each other a bit before you meet.”
“Tell Percy if he gives my phone number to anyone, I will kick his ass,” Shante deadpanned.
She relayed a non-threatening version of Shante’s answer and hung up the phone. She smiled and said, “I’m so excited for you! I’ve never met Dexter, but Percy says he’s really cool. He thinks you’ll like him.”
And of course, his opinion is gospel.
Shante returned her smile, contemplating if she should restock her supply of mace before the date.

* * *
Shante sipped her latte and watched through the window. She kept her eyes peeled for someone who might fit the vague description she was finally given: “kinda tall, dark hair, hazel eyes, really cute...the kind the ladies love.”
The window gave her a good view of the restaurant across the street where they were to meet. She’d agreed she wouldn’t just leave him there, but she didn’t want to be the one waiting like an idiot for someone she’d never met.
Finally, she saw him, or at least, someone who might fit the bill. He was tall and dark haired and maybe even attractive from what little she could tell from her vantage point.
She downed the rest of her latte and headed across the street. Upon entering the restaurant, the host directed her to the table where Dexter was waiting.
As she crossed the room and came into view of Dexter up close, she decided he wasn’t too bad looking. He wore baggy jeans and a striped polo shirt, an expensive looking watch and a silver chain around his neck, somewhere between urban and preppy. His hair was spiky and probably had a ton of gel in it. Tattoos drawn in what looked like Japanese characters decorated both arms from his wrists and disappeared under his sleeves.
She chuckled to herself. Any man that decorated himself that much probably thought he was prettier than any woman who came along.
He smiled as she came near. He stood, his hand out stretched to shake hers. “Hi, I’m Dexter. You must be Shante.”
She smiled politely. “Nice to meet you.” She caught him slyly look her up and down, but chose to ignore it.
“I gotta say, your picture doesn’t do the real thing justice.”
“Oh?”
“Definitely, I’m very impressed,” he said.
Son of a bitch…they showed him a picture of me.
“Thank you, I’m flattered,” she responded perfunctorily.
A few moments of silence passed as they looked through the menu.
“So how do you know Percy?” he asked after a few minutes.
“Through a friend of mine. We’re really more acquaintances.” She offered no further clarification. Apparently, he needed none.
Something about him bothered the hell out of her, but she resolved keep it down until she’d completed a full assessment.
As if on cue, he began an elaborate speech, citing his love of black women. He added, after a segment on being particularly appreciative of thick thighs and curvy figures, “she’s got to have a job or be going to school, too.”
That was enough. The analysis wasn’t complete, but well on its way to a failing score.
“So what do you like to do, Shante?”
She shrugged. “I read a lot, frequent a lot of bookstores…stuff like that. You?”
“I love sports, anything I can do that keeps me active.”
A few more moments of awkward silence went by. She supposed it was her turn to say something, but opted to stare at her menu instead. She was bored. If she wasn’t bored, she was repulsed. So far, he hadn’t said anything remotely rousing, except to disgust. For several minutes, she’d been planning her escape via bathroom window when a man she didn’t know plopped down in the booth next to her, trapping her in.
“Baby!” he said, kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I thought you meant our other favorite place.”
She almost backed away and slapped him, but quickly thought the better of it. Better to work on getting rid of freak #1 now and worry about freak #2 later.
She studied #2 for a moment. He was handsome, very handsome. He had short brown hair and eyes that seemed to light up when he spoke. Deep dimples added another 10,000 kilowatts to an already brilliant smile.
She glanced in Dexter’s direction. His eyes were trained to the new addition to their party. His surprise was evident, but something else lurked behind his eyes.
Shante couldn’t place it. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was disdain. Whatever it was, he obviously wasn’t happy.
As though sensing weakness, #2 pounced. Not menacingly, just a little too friendly. His hand shot across the table. He flashed his blinding smile. “Hi, I’m Jake.”
Dexter flinched at first, then sheepishly extended his hand to shake. His voice wavered. “Hey man, I’m sorry! I didn’t know,” he said apologetically. He glanced at Shante. “Percy never told me you were…” He indicated from her to Jake and back again with his eyes.
Shante smiled at Jake, then at Dexter. She decided to play along. “I’m sorry, I was sure they would have mentioned it. I just didn’t want to stand you up or anything.”
Dexter was inching out of the booth as she spoke. “No that’s cool, totally cool. You two have a good evening.” With that, he turned and darted for the exit.
Jake watched until the door swung closed behind him. He turned back to Shante. “Well, that was awkward. He must not be hungry.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be wearing red and blue spandex under your clothes, would you?” she asked.
He stretched the collar of his sweater and looked down. “Not today.”
Shante could smell his cologne. It was warm and inviting. He smelled really good; too good. She leaned into him and smiled. “You can move now,” she said softly.
He was thoughtful for a moment. “I’m comfortable.”
“I’m not.”
He leaned back and looked hurt. “Well, that’s gratitude.”
“Listen, Jake,” she said. “If that’s your real name…”
He flashed that smile again. “It is.”
“I played your little game, so…”
Grudgingly, he slid out of the booth and moved over to the other side of the table.
She scoffed. “What makes you think I’m staying?”
Jake gestured to the open menus on the table. “But you haven’t eaten yet. Let me buy you dinner. That’s the least I could do after scaring away your…boyfriend?”
She laughed and shook her head, reopening her menu. “Huh-ell no! Just a blind date that I really didn’t want to be on. Actually, I thought he recognized you for a moment there.”
He paused. “He should have. I arrested him last week for being drunk in public.”
Shante’s eyes widened. “Ah, I see,” she said, now comprehending what she’d seen earlier in Dexter’s eyes.
“Does that bother you?” he asked.
“No, not at all. I was just wondering if you always tail convicted criminals and then steal their women. Seems a little unethical, don’t you think?”
“No! I don’t do that, I…” he stammered.
“I mean, I was sitting here with a date, albeit an unfortunate one and suddenly here you come in the nick of time,” Shante reasoned. “You sure you’re not wearing blue and red spandex?”
He gestured for her to lean forward and directed her attention to the bar. “See the girl in the red top?”
Shante nodded when she spotted a tipsy dark haired woman clinging to someone at the bar. “Your date?”
“My sister.”
Shante was disgusted. “And you just left her over there in that condition with the wolves?”
“The guy she’s holding onto is her husband. He’s quite sober.”
“Then you’re here to…”
He shrugged. “No real reason. Just a third wheel. And a DD if necessary. I was over there, I was bored and I just happened to look over and see a beautiful woman who looked miserable and I couldn’t help myself. So am I off the hook now?”
She smiled. “I suppose so.”
The waiter came around to take their orders, leaving somewhat confused after they insisted Jake had been sitting there the entire time.
“Well, you know my name. And you are?”
“I guess since you’re a cop it wouldn’t do me any good to give you a fake name, would it?”
He rolled his eyes. “PD, not FBI.”
She smiled. “Shante.”
“See how simple that was?” he said. “You saved me the trouble of having to look you up—“
“Ha! I knew it!”
“—the next time we go out.”
Shante cocked an eyebrow. “’Next time’?”
“Yeah,” Jake said matter-of-factly. “You can’t expect a man to rescue a damsel in distress in a place like this and not expect him to want to see her again.”
She thought for a moment. “Hmm...Well just so you know, if you call me a damsel again, our ‘next time’ will be you limping away from me and calling for backup.” She waited for that moment when every man’s “headstrong woman alarm” sounded and washed over his face in a river of fear.
It never came. She asked him, “are you a glutton for punishment or do you just like a challenge?”
There was that smile again. “Is there a difference?” he asked.
She smiled to herself. For the first time in months, a blind date had taken a favorable turn. She’d be able to tell Jane the date was awesome.