Free The Quest by Olivia Gracey

one. I dragged my feet as long as I could and washed my hands a dozen times singing every hand washing song I knew. I was trying to come up with an excuse to leave but I didn’t want to be rude. I just couldn’t hear another one of his stories about his buddies and the wild times they had, nor about his neighbors barking dogs, and don’t get me started about the mole on his back that he insisted on taking his shirt off to show me. He wanted to know if I thought it looked oddly shaped or discolored. How would I know? I’m not a doctor! It seemed to have an eye and I could have sworn it winked at me!
                  Now the people watching that he did really put me over the top though. I don’t do that. Ever. I don’t sit back and watch the world criticizing every little thing about the people around me. That really got on my nerves quick. I found myself correcting him, telling him to “be nice” or “don’t say that.” When the last Lady shot her eyes our direction, I just knew she had heard every word he had said about her. I felt awful for her. He didn’t know how to be kind, just mean and critical. I was to the point of being embarrassed to be seen with him. I had wished we had ended our coffee date two hours ago. I arrived back at the table with red hands and a plastered smile. I sat down adjusting myself in my chair as if there was some way I could make my stay more comfortable. My mind swarmed with different scenarios of a proper exit. Thought seriously about starting a fire but I was not good at being an arsonist.
                  Just as I had given up hope his phone rang and he answered it, thankfully leaving me a way out. I sang praises to ma bell for inventing the phone! I stood to my feet, grabbing my trash to discard, and pulled my purse upon my shoulder. I mouthed the words, “Nice meeting you,” while I backed out the door. “I’ll message you,” I whispered as it shut behind me. I hurriedly made it to my car, crammed the key in the ignition, and backed out of there quickly. I didn’t want to give him a chance to come running out to catch me in the parking lot to converse with me more. I just knew I’d get stuck for another grueling two hours of his mean puns at unsuspecting folks and his winking grossly back mole with a single black hair rising out of it. I was even more happy I didn’t walk over and opted to drive. What if he saw where I lived? I’ve learned to play it safe when I meet men.
                  When I drove out of sight of the coffee shop, I pulled over. I stared in a daze at the road ahead of me with my eyes glaring across the hood of my car. My hands on the wheel, ten and two. As soon as I felt it was safe with no sign of him following, my forehead rested on the steering wheel. I let out a big sigh surprising myself. “I really suck at this,” I said in an effort to cheer up myself as if it was okay to suck at it. I began to reason with myself that I wasn’t that bad of a date. I patted myself on the back a few times telling myself I was a prize. But I wasn’t okay and the date was a disaster! How did I know this guy would have a diarrhea mouth? How could I have not seen his meanness before? He seemed so nice and sweet buying my coffee the first day I met him. But then you let him out of his cage and he’s so critical! “I dunno.” I watched the cars wiz by me thinking there has to be someone out there that didn’t make me want to run, hide, or start a fire! But where was he? Where is the guy that will pick me up in his strong arms and carry me away? I needed a man that would step up to the plate and be everything I had ever dreamed of. He would rescue me from the hole I had dug myself in. The pity-pen. That’s where I was. I was lying within the self–pity-pen that was dug deep within my heart. It kept reminding me I wasn’t worthy of the type of man I longed for. It whispered within my ears that I would never find