Rachel didn’t usually let herself be set up on a blind date, but her friend Helen had been so insistent that she had at last given in and agreed to meet Roberto for lunch. When she arrived at the restaurant, she was dumbfounded. Sure, the swarthy Spaniard was good looking and well dressed, but he was old enough to be Rachel’s father! She almost excused herself right then, but she didn’t know what she would say to Helen. She decided to soldier through the date and then tell Helen this had been her only chance and she had blown it.
She made an effort to be polite. She explained that she worked with Helen as a data analyst, though surely Helen had already told him that. But Helen hadn’t told her anything about Roberto, so maybe not. She asked what he did for a living.
“Oh, I never talk about work on a first date,” he said in his lilting Spanish accent. “Life is too short. We should talk about deeper things. Hopes. Dreams. Aspirations! I want to know what makes you you, Rachel!”
Her jaw dropped and she stared. What made her her? It was just a corny line, but somehow it made her shudder. Did she know the answer?
She blushed and hid in the menu.
“I think I’ll have a salad,” she said, keenly aware of how lame it sounded.
“That’s what you think, is it?” said Roberto. “Yes, I think you’re right. You are thinking of having a salad.”
“I am thinking of having a salad,” she agreed. She was so glad they could agree on that. She thought of having a salad, with glistening greens in a bowl as she prodded them with a fork.
“You are thinking of having the chicken Caesar salad?” he asked.
She hadn’t been. But she was now. And it was so good.
“You know what I think,” he said. “I think tequila pairs well with a chicken Caesar salad.”
“I think that too,” she told him. She looked up from her menu in astonishment. “I think that too.”
“Then you should probably tell Charise,” he said.
Charise? She looked and saw the waitress was there smiling patiently. Her nametag read Charise.
“I think I’ll have the chicken Caesar salad and a shot of tequila,” she said.
“A fine choice, Miss!” Charise praised.
Rachel made it a rule not to drink hard liquor on a first date after a bad experience in college, but she had already broken the rule about not talking about work, so she might as well break that one too. Charise thought it was a good idea. And so did Roberto. So they were all in agreement.
“You should bring the bottle, Charise,” Roberto told the waitress.
“Of course I should, Mr. Chavez,” she agreed.
The waitress walked off with a purpose. Rachel was confused.
“Did you order?” she asked.
“I find I usually don’t need to order,” he said. “And I come here often. Charise knows what I like. But I’m more interested in getting to know what you like.”
“Oh, well, I like to read historical fiction and I like walks in the park when it’s not too hot, and of course I like my cat XuXu,” she said, listing the first things that came to mind.
“Ah, XuXu,” he said. “What a lovely name for your pussy.”
Rachel blushed furiously.
“Yes, she’s a Persian cat,” she stammered. “A Persian pussycat. A Persian pussy. My pussy’s name is XuXu.”
“A lovely, lovely name for a lovely, lovely pussy, no doubt,” he said. “I’m glad we can agree on that. You will have to show me your pussy XuXu sometime.”
“I ... I ... not on the first date,” she said. “Never on the first date. I don’t ... take guys to my apartment ... on the first date. And that’s where XuXu is. My pussy. My pussy cat XuXu is at my apartment.”
“Of course! Of course!” he said. “Plenty of time for that some other time! I want you to feel comfortable, Rachel. The whole point of a date is to enjoy yourself and be comfortable getting to know another person. Can I help you feel more comfortable, Rachel?”
“Can you?” she asked. Or was it a plea? The room seemed unreal somehow. Or maybe it was just her.
“Well, if not me, Charise,” he said.
Rachel blinked and realized that the waitress was placing a small chicken Cesear and a big shot of tequila in front of her. Roberto had a lamb chop and what looked like bourbon. He raised his glass in salute.
“To relaxing with new friends,” he said.
“Yes! That!” she agreed and then downed the shot in one go.
It was so nice to be able to blame the tequila for what seemed to be happening to her brain. She drained the glass every time Charise or Roberto refilled it. It really helped her to just relax and enjoy telling Roberto her deepest thoughts and feelings. Or having Roberto tell her her deepest thoughts and feelings. Really, it was hard to tell the difference.
“You know what I’m thinking?” he asked after she had downed her third shot.
“What are you thinksing?” she asked with a big grin, putting an elbow on the table and resting her head on her hand, certain she’d love whatever he was thinking.
“I think you have lovely tits,” he said.
“That’s what I think too!” she agreed. “I think I have lovely tits!”
“She does have lovely tits, Mr. Chaves,” Charise agreed, refilling Rachel’s glass. “Even nicer than your last date’s. At least from what I can see.”
Rachel blushed, not having realized the waitress was there and overhearing.
“Yes, that’s right, Charise,” Roberto said. “It’s hard to make a judgment with them all covered up like that. Rachel, do you think you could show me your titties?”
Rachel slammed down her fourth tequila for courage and said: “I think I can shows you my tizzies!”
Then she reached under her blouse and undid her bra. It was tricky but she did it and slid it out discretely.
“I can take that for you, Miss,” Charise said helpfully. Rachel looked to Roberto, who nodded encouragement, and she handed Charise her bra. The waitress refilled her glass, then scurried off to dispose of the undergarment.
“I think I can show you my titsies,” Rachel repeated, more as a reminder to herself than to Roberto, then grasped the bottom of her blouse, looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was watching, pulled up the blouse to display her lovely titties to an appreciative Roberto, then pulled it back down.
Roberto looked disapproving. It felt so bad after having felt so good having him compliment her titties!
“Oh, Rachel, I think you can do better than that,” he insisted. “Lovely titties like those should be displayed, not hidden! Don’t you think so?”
.... There is more of this story ...