Dissatisfied

Thursday 3 March 2011

‘If that’s not the crappiest coffee I’ve ever had, I don’t know what is,’ Dan Porter whined to his date.

‘There’s no need to be like that, Dan. It was perfectly fine. You’re just upset that the waitress isn’t drooling over you the way all the other women in here are,’ her words, spoken in jest, were ringing with truth.

An incredibly conceited man, Dan Porter needed to feel as if he were the centre of attention. His narcissism knew no bounds, nor did his arrogance, or ego. He sneered at her comment.

‘What would you know anyway?’

She smiled, shook her head, and replied, ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m your wife?’

He shifted in his seat, and threw her a patronising laugh. ‘If you feel that way about it, why the hell did you marry me?’

‘Apparently, I was young and stupid, and you were a very good liar.’

Dan began to feel uncomfortable. They had lived apart for so long now, and he was wondering when she’d changed. She’d always been so meek, and mild before. The temperature in the restaurant felt like it was climbing, and Dan broke into a sweat.

‘So, how come you invited me out for dinner?’ he was becoming suspicious of her motives. ‘Are you angling for a divorce now?’

She leaned back into her chair. ‘Not at all, sweetheart. No need for that now.’

He looked at her, perplexed by her words. ‘What are you drivelling about?’

Her smiled broadened, and she waited just a little longer, until she could see the sweat beading on Dan’s brow. He fought with his tie and collar. Breathing was becoming difficult. His knuckles whitened as he tore at the Windsor knot of his tie.

She inhaled. ‘Crappiest coffee ever, huh? Digitalis will do that. Give it a bit longer and you’ll be as dead as a dodo. I won’t need a divorce.’

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About Danielle

I like to write. What more is there to know?
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