Bess was relatively content in life. She had come to accept certain things would never be as she would like them, but on the whole she had few real complaints. She accepted the fact that life was short, and time accelerated without mercy after she turned thirty. She accepted that she would never win a Pulitzer Prize, and that Chocolate was a fattening and most worthy temptation. She could not accept not being in love.
She found herself on the cusp of middle age, ten years removed from college, and life had not yet turned out as she had hoped. She thought surely by now she would be a professional writer, surely she would be, if not married then connected at the soul with a good man, and maybe even having a few children running around the house. But she wasn’t, and it only bothered her occasionally but tonight the pain surprised her,
A remembered dream shouldn’t have that power. She had thought it would hurt less with time. Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm suds. She knew she would have to find somewhere else to wash.”
The restaurant was nearly empty. A couple sat in a corner booth oblivious to all but each other. It was a lousy night for tips, but Bess didn’t mind. It would be easier and quicker to close and get home.
Susan sidled up and said, “What are you doing when you get home?”
I won’t know until I get in the door, crash in a heap and click through a hundred channels cursing my existence, and wonder why I am not happy; or I may clean the oven.
You could have gone home with the three musketeers, they seemed to like you a lot.
Yes and the more they drank the more they liked me, no thanks.
Three flirtatious college students all vying for your attention, you must have felt very special?
Oh yes, lucky me, the chosen one. Love was not in the air darling it was further south
You just have to speak to them in a language that they understand. Said Bess
You mean “pay your bill and hit the road?”
“Someday the perfect man will walk through that door and sparks will fly.” Susan said halfheartedly.
Bess, who is your perfect man?
My perfect man is thoughtful, sensual, and most of all silent. He is Adonis with duct tape on his mouth.
He is self-sufficient, cleans in binges, and insists on ironing his own clothes. He is a man comfortable with a mop in one hand, and a book in the other.
He laughs easily and most importantly can laugh at himself.
What about looks, what does Mr. Never existed look like?
I don’t know, I can’t see his face, but I would know him if I saw him
Yeah, the duct tape would be a dead giveaway
No, I would just know. I have seen him before, but we have never met
Bess honey, you’re being cryptic now, whatever are you talking about?
I had a dream once, it was years ago.
Hmmmmm, what kind of dream?
Yes it was that kind of dream
Susan pulled up a chair and said “do tell”