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Tuesday 200 - #55

I loathe lateness. And yet there I was, rushing into the pub forty minutes behind schedule for our third date. I’d run out of Midol, so I’d passed on punctuality in favor of preempting PMS.

Ben was sitting at the bar, editing a manuscript. The TV behind the bar flickered into his half-empty pint.

“Sorry, darling,“ I said and ordered a double whiskey neat from the strapping barman.

“How are you, kitten?” he purred, kissing me on the cheek.

“Stressed”, I said, knocking back the shot and motioning for another.

“Ohmm,” he pantomimed some new-agey breathing ritual. “Vacation starts Friday, what could possibly be wrong?”

Before I could mouth my myriad of moans, he pointed to the TV. “Well, there is that.”

It was an entertainment clip featuring Keira Knightley’s chin in its new film. “She’d want to atone,” he quipped.

“Not a fan?”

“Don’t get me started,” he said, apparently too late. “I’m sick of talent-light, nay … talent-free anorexics getting paid to pout in petticoats and have it called ‘acting’.”

“Speaking of waifs,” I asked while lighting up, “any thoughts on Gwyneth?”

“Hate her.”

“Thank God.”

And then he asked me to marry him.

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Last week's time's Tuesday 200 (Sorry, I was dead busy last week).

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