This sounds serious, Rochelle thought. Oh great, he's kicking me to the curb. Damn it! I much prefer being the dumper and not the dumpee. "Do you want to come over Pat?"
"Yes, would twenty minutes be okay? I need to speak with you before this relationship goes any further."
"Twenty minutes is fine. I'll see you shortly." Relationship? Since when did three dates without sex constitute a relationship? Rochelle liked men who could deliver toe curling kisses. Thus far, Pat hadn't delivered anything remotely close a toe cramp.
Pat and Rochelle had met through mutual friends. Although they had many similar interests, she'd never felt that "spark" when they held hands or kissed. Intellectually, he was her equal, at least that was a bonus. Rochelle had planned on giving it one more date before cutting him loose. Rochelle looked at her Irish Setter mix and sighed, "Maizey, I wish I were spayed. You don't seem to mind not dating." Maizey's tail thudded against the green sofa cushion. Maizey put her head on Rochelle's lap and rolled onto her back for a belly rub. Rochelle scratched Maizey's belly for several minutes. Rochelle sighed, "Oh well, a "relationship" without spark is better than no relationship, I guess. May as well listen to him and see what he has to say. It's not like there are any better offers knocking at the door." Maizey woofed in agreement.
Rochelle stood up and walked into the bathroom. With her toenails clicking against the hardwood floor, Maizey followed and guarded the door. She reached for a Q-tip to clean up the day's end eyeliner, pinched her cheeks and dabbed a little plum colored gloss on her lips. She studied her face, "Damn, is that a wrinkle?" She resented men who had a better complexion than she had, and Pat's was flawless. It was completely peaches and cream smooth, and never as much as had a 5:00 shadow on it. It irritated her. No man should have skin like that. Rochelle ran her fingers through her curly brown hair as she brushed her teeth. She looked at her clothes and noticed a paint spot on her sweats. "Shit!"
She went to her closet and pulled on a pair of jeans. Hopefully, it would be a short conversation and she'd be back in her comfortable sweats in no time. Rochelle walked into her kitchen and pulled out the mixings for an "Arnold Palmer with a golf swing." As she poured the sweet tea vodka, regular vodka, lemonade and iced tea over the ice, she thought "May as well be properly medicated for the "relationship talk." She was also thirsty.
Rochelle sat on the sofa again. Maizey joined her on the opposite end. They channel surfed, stopping on the Food Network. Sandra Lee was painful to watch, but occasionally had good ideas. Rochelle put the T.V. on mute, Maizey watched and licked her chops when she saw the "Semi-Homemade" version of Beef Wellington appear out of the oven. "Looks good doesn't it Maize?" The doorbell rang. Rochelle looked at her watch. Damn, he's was annoyingly punctual.
Rochelle unbolted the lock and opened her door, "Hi Pat, come in. Would you like a cocktail?"
"No thanks. I like to be straight when I have this conversation."
"Suit yourself, I'm going to freshen my drink though. Have a seat." Oh great, no drinks for him. I'm never going to get back into my sweats at this rate. "This conversation"? How many times has he had "this conversation"?
God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too
She took off to heaven and she did what she had to do
She taught every angel to rearrange the sky
So that each and every woman could find her perfect guy
It's Raining Men! Yeah!
According to our sources, the street's the place to go
Cause tonight for the first time
Just about half-past ten
For the first time in history
It's gonna start raining men.
It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men! Amen!
It's Raining Men! Hallelujah! - It's Raining Men!
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