by Roger Noons
Dirty Martini Cocktail
‘So what was she like?’ Rob asked.
‘Your blind date, Dumbo … the one you met last night.’
‘Actually, after a while, I found there were two of them, well two main ones, half a dozen by the end.’
‘What! Where did you go?’
‘Quite a few places by the time I’d finished.’
Not the quickest, frowning, he said. ’Did you know there’d be two?’
I shook my head.
’But when you found out, you’ve got my number, you could have given me a shout, I would have …’
‘I’m not sure they would have suited your taste,’ I told him.
‘Were they both blonde then?’
‘One was brunette, the other, grey.’
‘Ah, well unlike you, I’m not into older women.’
‘That’s because you’re much younger than me.’
‘What was the dark-haired one like?’
‘Thrilling, prone to dark secrets … rather vulgar.’
‘Now that would have suited me, I—’
‘In the nicest possible way.’
‘How can you be vulgar in a nice way?’
‘When she was rude, she either whispered or used sign language.’
‘Who did you say fixed you up with this blind date?’
‘Don’t know, but likely it was one of the members of the Writers Group.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘They’re the people I know who’re most into books.’
‘Yeah, it’s called Blind Date with a Book. It comes through the post wrapped in brown paper. Mine had a label tied to the front. It said.’
‘And you read it all, last night?’
‘It was only three hundred pages.’
Rob thought for a while and said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever read three hundred pages of a book in one go.’
‘That’s why you’ll never meet a twisted, rather vulgar woman,’ I told him.
About the author
Roger is a regular contributor to Cafe Lit. His volume Slimline Tales was published earlier this year by Chapeltown Books.