writing from
Scars Publications

Audio/Video chapbooks cc&d magazine Down in the Dirt magazine books

 

This writing was accepted for publication
in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book...
What Remains
Down in the Dirt, v143
(the March 2017 Issue)




You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:
order ISBN# book


What Remains

Order this writing
in the book
Study in Black
the Down in the Dirt
July-Dec. 2016
collection book
Study in Black Down in the Dirt collectoin book get the 418 page
Jan.-April 2017
Down in the Dirt
issue anthology
6" x 9" ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book

Order this writing in the book
Negative Space
(the 2017 poetry, flash fiction
& art collection anthology)
Negative Space (2017 poetry, flash fiction and art book) get the 298 page poem,
flash fiction & art
collection anthology
as a 6" x 9" ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book

Social Experiments, Or How I Prove Nice Guys Are Assholes

James Raisanen

    I arrived at the restaurant about twenty minutes early. I sat in my car, just listening to music while I waited for the agreed upon time. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, it was almost five minutes after. I rushed out of the car and into the place, and the waitress told me that my date had already been seated. She showed me to his table and I thanked her.
    Getting into the chair, I nearly fell over it. I could have died, figuratively. The expression on his face embarrassed me even more, and I could feel heat rush to my face.
    “My name is Club Magnum,” he introduced himself.
    I laughed out loud and hard. He looked so angry that I felt bad and stopped laughing with a little difficulty. If I sprayed him with saliva from the sudden burst of laughter, he didn’t say anything about it.
    He shook his head and tried again. “I’m... Matthew... Callon.” He picked up the two menus and handed me mine. “What’s your name?”
    “Ginny Walters,” I said. “Sorry I’m late. I swear I got here super early to avoid just that.”
    “I forgive you, Ginny.”
    The waitress walked up to the table. “Do you know what you want?”
    “Yes. I’ll have a lobster dinner, a side of fries, and a Coke; and she’ll have a side salad, no croutons, no dressing, and a glass of ice water.”
    The waitress finished writing the order down, then reached out to take the menus. She walked away with a smile and not another word.
    “So, what do you do for a living?” he asked, as if nothing had just happened.
    “Um, okay. I’m an assistant manager at Always 13.”
    “Oh, that’s interesting. I’m a systems analyst for BTI. I set up the computer systems for the entire building, and I make sure that everybody’s programs are working smooth...”
    I cut him off. “Are we really not going to talk about what happened a couple minutes ago?”
    “What do you mean, Ginny?”
    “You ordered for me. You didn’t even ask about my job.”
    “Oh. Sorry.”
    “You’re sorry?” I asked incredulously. It was then that the server brought the salad and drinks. She assured us that our food would be out soon, then walked away again.
    “Yeah, I’m sorry. So what’s your job about?”
    “Always 13 is a clothing store for pre-teen girls. So many of these girls are annoying, I can’t stand it sometimes.”
    “So what are your hobbies?”
    “Uh... I don’t know. Sitting around and watching movies on WebMovie. Sometimes I go to the park, or clean my apartment. What about you?”
    “Oh, my god. I love WebMovie! I don’t think I could live without it. But the park? Going outside? Ew.” He was about to speak again when the server set a stand down so she could more easily dole out the food.
    “How is everything?”
    “Fine.”
    “Fine.”
    She smiled and nodded, then packed up the stand and tray and walked away.
    “So what...”
    “No talking,” he said.
    My face scrunched when he said that. I relaxed and ate a few bites of my salad before testing him again. “Do you really...”
    “I said no talking while I’m eating.”
    The instinct I had first saw his profile on seeyou.com had been proven correct, and I couldn’t be happier.
    We sat in silence while we ate our food. Every so often, the waitress would come back and ask how things were, or if we needed refills.
    “You can pay for the tip,” said Matthew, after we were done and the bill had been brought to the table. “It should be about five dollars.”
    I left the money on the table, stood, and walked toward the doors. Matthew was close behind, but when he stopped to pay, I kept going. I decided to wait for him just outside.
    “Can I get your number?” he asked after coming outside.
    I wrote it down on his hand, then kissed him on the lips. “Why don’t you give me a call sometime this week?” I walked back to my car without giving him time to answer. By the time I got back to my car, I was already considering new experiments to push his underlying nature to the limit.



Scars Publications


Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.




Problems with this page? Then deal with it...