- Lucy-
Something told me this guy wasn’t going to be up for a quick fuck, and my suspicions were confirmed when he asked me the question that was burning the tip of his tongue.
“So have you accepted Jesus as your personal savior?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Wouldn’t I have had to fill out some paperwork or something? I think I’d remember that.”
He nodded. “Yeah, you would remember. Like for me it was really profound.” He leaned back so he’d have room to talk with his hands. “Like there was my life before I was born again and then after.”
Cory wasn’t the first religious guy I’d met on Tinder, but it didn’t happen that often. Still, I thought religious people were supposed to find love in Bible study or something so it always caught me off guard.
“But there’s no paperwork,” he added, as if that was the only thing stopping me from joining the club.
“Interesting,” I said, picking up my panini with both hands. “So you can just, like, hand your life over to Jesus anytime then?”
“Pretty much.”
“What made you want to do that?” I asked, deciding it was too early to pass judgment on whether Cory was harmless or crazy.
He fingered the wooden cross around his neck. “I was going through a dark time and-”
Let me guess. “As a teenager?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on,” I said, taking a big bite.
“Anyway, I started self-harming-”
Maybe we had more in common than I thought.
“And I knew I needed help.”
I covered my half full mouth with my hand. “And who better to help you than Jesus, right?”
Cory furrowed his brows. “It’s not a joke, Lucy. I could’ve died.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t mean- sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood.” Since this is supposed to be a first date and all. “Please finish your story.”
He looked down at his salad like he was trying to decide if I’d offended him too much for him to continue. “I almost died of an overdose one night.”
“Can I ask what you-”
“Cough syrup.”
“Cough syrup,” I repeated, trying to keep a straight face.
“Yeah. And when I was in the hospital, Jesus came to me and told me that my life was worth fighting for.”
“Are you sure it was Jesus?”
He craned his neck towards me. “I think I would know Jesus if I saw him.”
That makes one of us. “So he saved you?”
“Basically.”
“Wow.” I wanted to ask if it ever occurred to him that he was just hallucinating, a common side effect of robotripping, but I didn’t want to make light of the epic high that had changed the course of his life.
“I know. After that, I knew I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“I see,” I said, pulling down my sleeves and feeling afraid enough for both of us. “And what makes you think I need to be saved?”
“Everyone needs to be saved.”
“Oh, so it’s not personal?” I asked, reaching for my Sprite.
“Well, you do look like you might need some guidance.”
“Guidance?”
He shrugged.
“Please elaborate.”
“Just from the way you look.”
I tilted my head at him. “You mean because I have pink streaks in my hair?”
“I don’t know if you’re just trying to get someone’s attention, but you don’t have to try that hard for Jesus.”
I laughed. “Do you feel cheated because my hair was different in the pictures you saw of me on Tinder?”
“Not at all. I just think sometimes when people change the way God made them, it’s indicative of some deeper pain.”
“Sorry- what do you do for a living again?”
“I’m sort of between jobs right now.”
“Right.”
“But I’d like to have my own skateboarding academy.”
“Oh.” Is that even a thing?
“That’s why I’m living at home right now. To save money so I can start my own business.”
“I see. Well, you don’t need to worry about me, Cory. The pink streaks are only temporary, and they aren’t a cry for help.”
He reached across the table and put his hand on mine.
I felt my blood run cold.
“Good,” he said. “Because you’re perfect just the way God made you.”
“I really appreciate that,” I said, trying to remember the last time I shared a Dear Diary Moment with a deadbeat lunatic.
He slid his weirdly small, hemp wrapped wrist back towards him. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to go to the little boy’s room.”
I forced a smile as he got up.
As soon as he turned the corner, I pulled out my phone and called Aiden, but it went straight to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message and dialed Fiona’s number as fast as I could.
“Hey, Luce. What’s-”
“I need you to stop whatever you’re doing and come rescue me.”
“I can’t right now,” she said. “I’m with a client.”
“How soon will you be done?”
“I’m only mixing the color now.”
“Full color or highlights?”
“Highlights.”
“T-bar or-”
“Half-head.”
“Shit.”
“Sorry,” she said. “You okay?”
“Apparently it depends on who you ask.”
“What?”
“The guy’s a Jesus freak,” I said, whispering into the phone.
“So why isn’t he on Christian Mingle? What the fuck?”
“I know.”
“Did you try Aiden?”
“Yeah. He didn’t pick up. He’s probably sick of rescuing me at this point.”
“Plan B then?” she asked.
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you so much. You’re the best.”
“No problem,” she said.
I hung up the phone and laid it on the table so I wouldn’t miss her call.
A moment later, Cory came around the corner with his fly open. Part of me wanted to tell him, but I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.
“Could you squeeze in some dessert?” he asked. “Or would you rather just go for a drink somewhere?”
I felt my chest tighten at the lack of good choices, but I knew if I started drinking with this guy, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Plus, it was hard enough to make sure I didn’t offend him when I was sober. “Dessert would be great.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve been thinking about the double chocolate brownie all day.”
“You come here a lot?”
“You could say that.”
“Am I missing something?”
He laughed. “This is my parent’s café.”
“What?”
He pointed to a small pastry counter at the back of the room.
When I turned to look at where he was pointing, a middle aged couple waved at me. I lifted my hand. “I take it those are your parents?”
“Yep.”
“Do you always take first dates here or-”
He nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Don’t you feel a bit- I don’t know- stifled dating in front of them?”
“Not at all,” he said. “They’re eager for me to meet someone and-”
I bet they are.
“Bringing dates here saves me a lot of money.”
“How convenient,” I said, relieved that I wouldn’t need to go Dutch on this character building experience.
“Plus, the food’s delicious, don’t you think?”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “My panini was… unforgettable, and the hand cut chips were fantastic.”
He smiled like he cut them himself.
“Why don’t you work in the café with your parents if you’re between jobs?”
“I tried for a while, but washing my hands so much aggravated my eczema.”
Charming.
“So do you want the brownie, too, or would you rather have the strawberry cheesecake?” he asked. “They’re the best choices in my opinion.”
“I think I’ll go for the cheesecake.”
“Cool,” he said, pushing his chair away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
I couldn’t decide if this set up was weirder or on par with the time I went out with the Indian guy whose parents sat at the next table while we had a drink.
The guy assured me that he wasn’t as traditional as his parents, but I kept imagining what it would be like for them to lay in the bed next to us while we got it on. In the end, I announced to the family that I had diarrhea from eating bad meat and excused myself… forever.
A moment after Cory brought our desserts over, my phone began to ring. I picked it up immediately. “Hello.”
“If you don’t leave right now, all the kittens on Earth will die,” Fiona said.
“Oh my god- don’t move. I’ll be right there.” I looked across the table at Cory with wide eyes before shoving the phone in my purse.
“Is everything okay?”
“No. No, it’s not. I’m sorry. I have to go,” I said, standing up. “It’s an emergency.”
His face fell. “Oh, okay. Do you want to take your cheesecake to go then?”
I looked down at the glistening red jelly coating the fresh strawberries. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.” I picked up the cheesecake with my fingers and wrapped it in my paper napkin. “I’m sure I’ll be better off taking it… in case I’m at the hospital all night.”
Cory stood up. “Do you think you’d like to go out again sometime?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Not because you’re not a great guy-”
He parted his lips to speak-
“But I know Jesus would always come first in your life, and I’m looking to be someone’s number one.” Or at least someone’s bit of fun and certainly not someone’s project.
“I understand.”
“But I hope you find someone as special as you are.”
“You, too.”
“And your fly is open.”
He looked down and his cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” I slung my purse across my body. “Please tell your parents the food was delicious.”
“Sure.”
“Good luck, Cory.”
“Take care,” he said.
I hurried out the front doors into the fresh air at a kitten saving pace. As soon as I was around the corner, I started walking normally again and unwrapped the cheesecake.
When the first sweet bite hit my tongue, I felt like writing a poem. It was so good I had to stop walking for a second to savor it. In fact, I was relieved that I’d ended things so maturely with Cory since it meant I could go back for another slice sometime.
Thank god I hadn’t said I was an atheist.