Blind Date! Ophelia & Dave

Blind Valentine 
#1

Happy Valentine's Day!!!



Thank you for participating in our Valentine's Day event.

Please assume that your character has either already arrived or is being escorted to their table where they will meet their date. After introductions, servers will periodically arrive to describe the shared appetizer, main course, and shared dessert as they are served. Thread progression is up to the players/characters involved. You are in control of when the server arrives to describe each course.

Remember, this entire thread takes place in the dark.

If things go well, let a server know. They'll escort your characters outside together where there will finally be enough light to see each other for the first time. If things go... not so well, your character can request to be escorted out separately and you'll never have to "see" them again.


Meet your date!

Match:


@Ophelia Taylor & @David Birch

Menu:


Appetizer:
"Green Eggs", Hard-Boiled Eggs Fried in a Parsley Tempura with Duck Salad

Main Course:
Grilled Beef Tenderloin, Mashed Red Potatoes, Sautéed Blue Lake Green Beans, Crispy Shallots, Red Wine Sauce

Dessert:
Fluffy Chocolate Sponge Cake, Espresso Mousse, Eucalyptus-Smoked Chocolate Sauce and Chocolate Ice Cream


Bon Appétit!


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#2
Dave took his seat at the behest of his guide… or at least he hoped it was his seat. He scooted the chair forward and kneed the table. A strangled gasp accompanied the pain alongside a hushed curse. Dave stilled in the pitch blackness and felt that making a racket was somehow… wrong. This reminded him of slipping into the house at 2:00AM drunk as a skunk and trying not to wake his parents. Good times. Good times.

Somewhat settled, Dave stared at the space opposite and blinked away the shapes that formed before his eyes. He squeezed them closed and then blinked harder. Palms then pressed into each socket as if that would help. His eyes just ached after that. He sighed only squirmed in his chair a little more. Being alone in the dark weighed on him and he wasn't even that afraid of the dark. Nerves.

Ten minutes had been spent worrying about what to wear tonight, then he figured it didn't matter with the premise of this blind date. He could be naked for all they knew. No… she could be naked for all he knew. Dave smirked, liking that one better.

The multicolored shapes dancing before his eyes still distracted and he huffed at them, wondering if they'd go away? A voice sounded beside Dave and he started, kneeing the table again. Flatware and glasses jingled and he cursed again. The waiter apologized with an easy laugh and took his drink order.

Dave rubbed at his smarting knee and waited in wonder at which would turn up first; his date or his drink.
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#3
 This had all the clear cut markers of a disaster in the making, all the raw potential to end poorly. A whole lot of work for a meal when there were far simpler ways to achieve the same goal. But half the appeal was the difference, something out of the norm - a challenge that could be readily evaded with a shake of her head at the end of a meal she wouldn't even get to enjoy.

 "And step ..." She was slow to set her foot down, wondering how many people had stumbled or outright fell. Careful as she slowly let go of the hostess' arm when her chair slid across what she imagined was hardwood. This had to be worth a good chuckle for the staff, less so as a patron as she traced the curve of the back of the chair and reached down with her other hand to find the seat before coming round to sit properly. Her hip bumped into the table just barely in the process, mumbling an apology to what very well could have been no one before she inched her seat in close.

 In the pitch black she narrowed her eyes, tried to make out a silhouette or some loosely defined shape of a person across from her. Nothing. "Hello ...?"
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#4
Approaching sounds made Dave perk up. He stilled the urge to shuffle and waited in rapt silence as fabric rustled opposite and the table bumped. He heard a mumble that almost sounded apologetic, then the chair rasped against the hardwood floor. This was really happening. Taken with the whole thing, Dave smiled stupidly.

But how to introduce himself? A few lines bounced through his head as he sat in the darkness and a few caught. The few that held potential deflated in the moment; he had too long to dwell and reconsider. Then she said hello and no longer was this at his prerogative, suddenly it was his turn to react. He waited too long and was now on the backfoot.

The deflated potential lines sputtered under pressure. He studied the uncertain hello and found it infuriatingly absent of anything identifiable. He couldn't even gauge her attractiveness. It felt as if minutes passed since she broke the silence. Right, need to say something, anything.

"Hey, didn't see you… there." He said with a short and breathy laugh and trailed off toward the end. Of course, he hadn't seen her there; no one saw anything anywhere. Maybe unintended irony would play well with her.
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#5
 She wondered if behind the googles and the forced silence if the wait-staff was having a verifiable holiday with this whole business. Imagined it made for a good deal of people watching as she forced a smile that didn't even feel convincing. But hopefully, it sounded it, gentle as she felt along the table with just the tips of her fingers to get a sense of where her plate was, the general layout of the spread in front of her.

 "Likewise - can't say I've ever done anything quite like this before." And if nothing else went honest and pleasant, that at least was the absolute truth. "I'm Leah, by the way - I'd shake your hand but I have absolutely no clue how we'd pull that off."
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#6
"Right?" He agreed, lightness in his voice. "Dave. And here. I got this." Dave shuffled in his chair, hands on the edge of the table cloth. "Move your left hand towards the corner of the table, then follow the edge. I'll do the same."

He went with his left as well, then winced. Shit. Her left was his right… almost a fatal mistake. He imaged them on opposite sides of the table wiggling for the other. Dave switched hands and followed his own instructions.

Then he was suddenly struck with the nightmare situation that his fingers would wiggle in the void alone. He almost pulled back, not to make a fool of himself. But then what if she similarly wiggled after he retreated and thought Dave left her hanging. No. He would not do that to Leah. Dave needed to believe.
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#7
 Dave. It was very generic, from her understanding of up to date naming trends, fitting for someone who's general aura suggested they were mundane. No exceptional delicacy, but still better than settling in her seat across from some sort of shifter or even another vampire. A Dave would do just fine, thank you. Appreciating the initiative as she set her left hand on the table and minded her water glass as she followed the directions and grimaced as she touched skin.

 Presumably warmer than her own, just fingers at first before she leaned in a bit and shook properly. "Pleasure." The slightest lull as she slowly pulled away and grimaced at the throat clearing warning from their server, not that she couldn't hear the approach with absolute clarity. The sound of plates being set down and the smell of meat and something else a particularly sobering reminder of what she had to look forward to for the next hour or so - hopefully Dave was viable.

Patting the table, she carefully unfolded her napkin and shook the silverware loose, smoothed the napkin in her lap. "On the count of three?"
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#8
Holy fuck it worked. Good job Dave, you shook a woman's hand. Thankfully, the darkness hid her grimace and Dave just grinned stupidly. The darkness hid that too. Her hand was cold, but it was cold outside so that made sense and women were always cold.

"Likewise." He said before starting at the ahem from the waitstaff. Bastards needed a bell. He sat back as they placed food before him. Hands skirted the table's edge and found the cool plate. He sniffed and cooed, appreciating the aroma. More appreciative noised followed as their server described the starter. They also brought his beer.

The chink of tableware followed and Dave hurried to follow suit. He unfurled the napkin into a cupped hand and caught the cutlery as it chilled his skin. Dave fumbled with the knife and fork and made a racket placing them on the table, managing to clink both the plate and wine glass. Napkin in lap, he found his plate again and then located the knife and fork.

"On three." Dave agreed. Just why they needed a countdown he didn't know, but he agreed all the same. But if he was honest, he had no fucking idea what Green Eggs were, except in Dr. Seuss. And that didn't sound appetizing. Even the explanation had him stumped. It sounded like something he'd get at P. F. Changs. Did he like duck? Dave remembered it being greasy… or maybe that was just the duck from the Chinese in the strip mall.

He counted down with her.
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#9
 "... One." She had managed to find her fork easy enough, scraping the tines against the edge of the plate the slightest bit before she feigned chewing and swallowing air just to make sure the timing of it all made some margin of sense. Not even bothering to dip into the eggs properly as if she feared some sort of contamination or illness by proximity alone.

 The problem was that when you hadn't eaten a typical meal in over a century, it was hard to know what the hell a green egg was. So instead she leaned in the tiniest bit, her chair just barely creaking as she tried to pick up at least some familiar scent to build her opinion off of - nothing, and the longer she sat in silence the worse conversation would be for it.

 "Mm, don't know about you, but I like it." The simple nature of it making her wrinkle her nose in the dark as she quietly set the fork down and rested her hands in her lap, squeezed her knees. "It's not as fancy as he made it sound - that's good." Dave sounded like a simple man, she assumed he liked simple food.
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#10
"Yeah, it's good!" Dave was quick to agree even though little food found his mouth yet. His knife and fork scraped against the plate. This was harder than he imagined and hadn't realized before now how often he looked at his food when eating.

He almost wanted to forego the silverware and use his hands. At least then he'd be able to find the food easier. It was dark… she'd never know. But Dave listened to her clink so prettily across the table and knew how odd it would sound it his scraping suddenly ceased. Christ, he must be making such a mess of his plate. Dave grimaced in the darkness and redoubled his efforts.

"Duck's good. Haven't had duck in a while." He found his beer and took a swig to wash the duck down.
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#11
 Few things sounded quite like nails on a chalkboard as the idea of spending the next however long critiquing food she could not ever hope to taste. At the mention of duck her nose wrinkled, trying to move her jaw as if to chew so that she timed her 'bites' in a way that didn't seem too rushed or glacial for that matter. "I don't think I've ever had duck before now - do you go to places like this a lot?"

 A great opportunity to hopefully get the fuck away from food before she unknowingly painted herself into a corner by complaining about the salt levels in a sweet dish or something comparable. At least this way she perhaps could get some sense of where he fell on a financial scale. "I guess I'm more of the burger type." She was more of the 'people-who-ate-burgers' type, so she supposed that loosely had to count for something.
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#12
"Places like this?" Dave gestured with his fork in the dark. "Not often." Very rarely, if he was honest. This shit was expensive and he didn't get fancy food. What was with the swirls on the plate? And why did they give so little food for so high a price? They must have made a god damned killing. What was wrong with a basket of mozzarella sticks for a starter?

He felt out his beer again and took another gulp. There was a flutter of excitement at her confession and Dave grinned slowly. Leah sounded hot and she wasn't into fine dining. Maybe she was the one? This was a good how they met story.

"Okay." He said with a dramatic sigh. "Burger King or McDonalds?"
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#13
 David seemed easy to please, a low maintenance creature that seemed to be feeling around in the dark in more ways than just the literal. She kept up with her intermittent readjusting, went through the motions and dropped her head sharply to the side when he huffed, curious and scoffing at the question that came after the buildup.

 Both were new to her, things that came into existence after she had been forced to leave food behind. But, based on what she could gather from commercials and window advertisements ... "Are you serious? Burger King - it's royalty, David. King in the title."
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#14
He forgot the food in front of him for the moment, finding it far more filling to shoot the shit with Leah. Dave liked it when she said his name. He laughed, then added, "bet I know your favorite grocery store." King Soopers, for those wondering. Dave was firmly in the McDonald's camp, but it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things; they both did the job at 2am.

The servers returned with the main course and he felt a moment's panic at having too many plates on the table. But without being able to see the state of the table, Dave discovered he didn't really care. Embracing the uncertainty, he rubbed his hands together as the server described the dish.

"Now this is what I'm talking about." He said in appraisal of the meat and potatoes.
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#15
 "I guess I'm terribly predictable." She didn't have a favorite grocery store, she didn't understand the implication - that was all beside the point. When their waiter returned she went through the motions, listened to the description and made sure her napkin was still covering her lap. There was a fleeting paranoia that perhaps something would be said about her full plate from their appetizer - happy to be proven wrong.

 "Is there anything you don't like?" She picked up her fork and just barely tapped the tines against the rim, "Food wise, I mean. Because I'm rather picky and it seems we're having good luck tonight." Fingers crossed that continued.
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#16
He chose to believe their good luck implied more than just food. Him and Leah hit it off and Dave saw this going beyond dinner and them being escorted out together. He almost said something to that effect but bit his tongue, not about to jinx it. Instead the man nodded despite the darkness and offered an assenting hum.

"Yeah, of course." He paused a beat. "Vegetarians." He offered the culinary choice like a curse and scoffed. He'd yet to touch his steak, which tantalized his senses, and groped for his knife and fork. Dave kept this to himself lest to ruin the joke, but he didn't mind vegetarians or their fare. Some of it was actually tasty, but it wasn't a steak.

"But I'm not too picky… but I know what I like." The contradiction didn't faze Dave. He started to work with his fork and knife.
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#17
 Oh, that was a funny one. She smiled in the dark, enough so to flash dull and human teeth in the pitch black. Vegetarians - she cut into her steak and listened to the tap and scrape of dragging the knife along. "I don't get being vegetarian personally." Pause enough to chew, were it that she had that luxury on hand.

 "What is it that you do?" Mindful not to volunteer her own story without asking. Easier to build off of whatever he said, less fuss in making some wispy connection and hoping it was enough to rope him in when all was said and done.
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#18
Dave thought he heard an exhale of amusement from Leah and he grinned dumbly in the dark. Was this going well? She seemed pleasant and entertained; their conversation had good cadence, but it was difficult to get a good feel for her without body language. Normally he could tell by the frown and move on. Some women just frowned a lot, and they were difficult to judge. Dave pressed against the darkness and tried to figure just how into him Leah was.

"I'm self-employed." There was a little pride there; Dave wasn't some wage slave. He raised an eyebrow in the darkness. "Have you perhaps heard of… Uber?"
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#19
 Self-employed made her feel good in a way that was not too easy to express, like coming home to the AC in the dead of summer. Self-made sounded like money, and it was easy in the span of a few seconds for her mind to run ahead of her with ideas. Perhaps she could suggest he craved her company even after she'd fed properly, maybe she could make him obedient. Perhaps he could fund her, maybe - she stopped short of another scrape of her fork against the plate and sneered when he pressed on.

 "I have."With a bit of attitude behind it she pushed her plate back, no qualms in letting the staff see she had not actually touched a single bite of her meal. "Oh? I'm sure you have plenty of interesting stories." She frowned, crossed her arms and leaned back a bit in her seat as she estimated where he sat from the sound of his voice and stared in that exact spot.
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#20
Dave was no fool, he caught the derision, heard the scrape of cutlery, and winced. Thank god for the darkness. But Dave smiled through the awkwardness and tried to claw back his dignity which spilt across the table. He wasn't ashamed of his livelihood and Leah was right; he had plenty of interesting stories, but which could bring the sunshine back to her voice? Flicking through the few standouts amongst his repertoire, none felt good enough.

That left one option, and he shrugged into it. "Yeah, I get it. Must be more of a Lyft girl?" He smiled at his own joke and hoped the grin hid the fear he just fucked this all up. "I've been weighing the pros and cons of doubling my business." AKA, being a Lyft and Uber driver.
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#21
Careful.

 There was a pause as she decided if she wanted to dismiss the whole business model or not, biting on the inside of her bottom lip and pressing her fingers against the very edge of the table. Enough time to rebuild, to make sure she could come back pleasant and hopefully avoid sending the whole tentative meal into a nosedive.

 "Mostly public transport, but I live a ways out from here - are you close?" Easier than trying to even pretend to give two shits about Uber or Lyft or whatever else.
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#22
Dave narrowed his eyes in deep contemplation. This conversation was going places he hadn't imagined just a minute ago. There was only one reason she'd ask if he lived close… and somehow, he doubted his expanding business model was it. The whole Lyft thing hadn't been that funny; more a desperate stretch if Dave was honest. Maybe she wanted the D—ave?

Dave simmered as an answer formed. He read too much into the question, they were on the subject of travel after all. But god damn, who too public transport in Colorado? Especially if Leah didn't live in the city proper? He didn't even know if busses went into the outskirts.

"Got a place in Cordova. You? Where's 'a ways out'?" He admitted.
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#23
 "Cordova's nice." Well, it wasn't the worse - wasn't the type of situation in which he might say something about renting a studio in the middle of god forsaken Red Rock. And it wasn't a total lie at least - it was nicer these days, at least now that she could poke around without fear of getting her head torn off in the process.

 "I have a studio out in Lavender Heights, familiar?" Muttering a thank you as she heard the clearing of a throat to her left and the sound of her plate being cleared from the table. "It's not very glamorous but it's a roof and that's really all that matters."
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#24
Cordova wasn't too bad. A roof over his head, indeed, but most of all it didn't break the bank. Dave supposed he could live out his car if it came to it, but he didn't like working from home. There was also that pesky thing about drunk driving that would no doubt get him in the shit. No… Dave needed to keep a roof of timber and tar shingles over his head.

"Yup, all that matters." Dave agreed with another nod. They took his steak which made him grumble. A beat of silence followed, then he remembered Leah's question. He hadn't forgotten the awkwardness around being an Uber driver, so he approached timidly to take the temperature of the room. "Yeah, drive out there often. Lots of people into the city on a Friday night or heading home early Saturday." Dave made a good percentage of his weekly earnings Friday and Saturday nights. God bless the drunkards; himself included.

Dessert next.
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#25
 So far what she had was that David was the meat and potatoes sort, he liked fast food, he drove for Uber, he lived in Cordova, and ultimately he seemed entirely mundane. Seemingly simple, self-driven or perhaps just faulty where more traditional means of income were concerned. It didn't matter much one way or the other, really.

 The next, smaller dish that was set in front of her made her frown as it was explained with practiced efficiency. A whole lot of chocolate - the exact sort of thing she would have loved in a different lifetime. "So what I gathered from all that was chocolate cake, ice cream, chocolate syrup - right?" Hoping to match simple with simple as she scooted her chair a bit closer to the table. Knocking into a chair or table leg, possibly his foot if he had no sense of personal space, she mumbled an apology.

"So when you're not working or eating burgers, what do you do for fun?"
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#26
"Think that's the gist of it." Dave agreed with another nod. He found his fork again, eager to dig into dessert. His fork slid easily though the sponge cake and clinked against the plate. Chewing as Leah asked her question, he swallowed quickly.

Reluctant to admit the majority of his off hours were spent at one bar or another—some women had a problem with that—he tried to keep it vague and shrugged.

"Yeah, you know. Watch the Broncos and the Avalanche; catch a few games a year. Go downtown or out to eat. Sometimes go bowling… you like bowling? There's that bar with all the old video games; that's good times. Lots of breweries in Mountainside too; always something new." He failed to keep it vague and shrugged again.
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#27
 The list he spiraled into got more and more dull as he went on and she made a game of slicing into her cake with her fork. Pretending to chew to get the timing right before she did it again and hummed as if to eagerly interrupt him. "Bonus Round?" The slightest curious rise to her voice as she found the first thing that sounded friendly for the hours she kept and like it wouldn't make her want to set herself on fire.

 "I love that place, actually - actually pretty good at skee ball, which is funny considering taking me bowling is generally a mistake." Trying to frame it as a casual possibility, something for him to just ... consider.
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#28
"Yeah, Bonus Round!" Dave perked up, delighted even, to find something they shared. He'd been treading down worry that they wouldn't find something substantial to latch onto from this blind date. Hopefully allured sustained for only so long, but this was the first detail that shed light on possibility.

Bowling just happened to be one of the few sports that you could drink while you played. Darts was another one. Shame he never got into golf; just always seemed too highbrow for his tastes. Bonus Round checked all the boxes. He settled back as a presumed suggestion slipped between them and he spent a good moment deciding if she meant anything by it.

Dave delved deeper. "And why would that be a mistake?"
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#29
 Oh how exciting, they had something that they could hold onto - something with enough substance that she wouldn't need to wait outside for him and convince him to cooperate. Pleased with herself she smiled in the pitch black, pressed the tines of her fork into what felt like the quickly melting puddle of ice cream and made a face at the thought of ever eating goddamn ice cream with a fork.

 "As for bowling, I happen to be very good - so ... unless you like a challenge ..." Singsong as she trailed off. Half a lie, the one or two times she'd gone to anything of the sort - faring decently. Although that hardly made her a professional, he didn't need to know that.
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#30
Shit. He overstepped with the bowling and somehow it became a challenge. Even though he hadn't seen her face, he imagined Leah with her name embroidered on a shirt, bowling glove, and custom ball… maybe clear with a skull inside, and wearing shoes that only ever had one pair of feet inside. Dave swallowed, how close to 300 was she? Could he bowl above a 70? After a while the pins started to double in his vision.

An honest to God challenge made him sweat, but he couldn't say no. "Just say when and where." He hoped the confidence in his voice carried through.
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#31
 Meat and potatoes, named something simple like David, liked beer - of course, he took a challenge. Yet again the darkness in which they sat teetered between a curse and a gift, smiling then as she tapped her fork around blindly a couple more times for good measure to make sure that she seemed content and like she was enjoying her meal. Another few beats and she set the fork down, grabbed the napkin to her side and wiped her hands clean even though they weren't dirty to begin with.

"Well, when you're done, we can exchange numbers outside, if you'd like." The click of setting a trap before you withdrew carefully to avoid harming yourself in the process.
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#32
In that moment and with those words, Dave was done. If brash enough, he would have dramatically swept the plates aside to make his point. Instead he pushed his plate forward until it clinked something which sounded like a glass. Subtle. Dave cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Anxiety rose in his stomach as he was led out by the elbow. He hoped Leah was hot and he hoped she'd still be into him once the dark was done away with. Wooing in the dark culminated in this moment and he hoped it would be worth it.
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#33
 If you pulled the trap too early it was ruined, most too smart to wonder that same path twice. She smiled when he agreed, pleased with herself as she set the napkin in her lap on the table and slowly stood. Smoothed out her skirt and preened in the dark as she was led out and towards the front. The worst of the work was over, good old basic human charm and dedication - this point on would be easy enough one way or the other.

 Of course she braced for the worst, the possibility that he was unappetizing when all was said and done. But blood was blood and for her purposes he was consumable - it was just a matter of it he proved to be a renewable resource or not.

 The door was held open and even though the sun had set some time ago, she was taken off guard by how stark the sparse streetlamps were from the dinner they'd just endured. She stepped to the sidewalk before turning, reminded herself to maintain her best poker face for the sake of keeping a good impression.
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#34
The light stung and Dave winced at the natural darkness outside the pitch-black dining experience. Blinking to regain some clarity, he looked upon a raven-haired beauty. She reminded Dave of those goth chicks he used to see more of. What happened to them? Probably grew up and were real people now with real jobs. He stared, felt his stomach knot up, and stepped towards his dinner date.

Leah seemed more reserved in her delight than he was, but Dave stumbled past the warning sign and moved into her orbit. "Ya know… I don't think I will be doing that again." His eyes widened and he waved off any insinuated insult. "No offense or anything. But I like to see my food, ya know?"
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