Untitled

Untitled

A Story by Marissa
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Just something I'm working on

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“Dude! Seriously?!” He yelled into the receiver as he glared at his computer screen.

“What?” asked a groggy voice on the other end of the line. Averting his eyes from the screen he said,

“You signed me up for a dating service? Really?”

“I did?” Asked the voice.

“’Who Meets Who dot com. The perfect site for engineers and scientists to find each other.’” He sarcastically read from his computer screen with distaste.

“Oh that. Yeah, we did it.”

“Whose we, Michael?” He asked angrily.

“Dude, its fine. It was a long time ago. Why are you talking about it now?”

“Well, apparently, I have a date this Friday.” He returned.

“…Heh.”

“What?”

“Well, at least someone likes you.” Michael sleepily chuckled.

“Thanks.” He said sarcastically. “What should I do?”

“Go for it.” Michael said.

“What? Why should I?”

“Well, for one there’s a girl who wants to be with you on Valentine’s Day,”

He had forgotten that Valentines was on Friday.

“Secondly, you haven’t had a date since…. Ever.”

“Okay, that one’s not true.”

“Bart. Yeah it is.”

“But-“

“Oh. My. Gosh. High School never counts! You’re an engineer now. You have your freaking doctorate. You deserve more than what that one girl ever gave you for a year of your life.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Anyway. Go. On. The. Date.” He yawned, “See you later.”

The phone clicked on the other end.

The clock read 7:45.

“Great.” Bart said as he hung up the phone on the receiver. Closing his laptop, Bart proceeded to move on with his daily morning routine and simultaneously attempted to forget about the whole date.
He tried to do something with his messy, brown hair. Its long locks moved this way and that, proving impossible to do anything practical with. He tried to slick it back, or spike it up with this gel his hair dresser had given him, but to no avail, it merely went back to its previous position. Giving up, he took off his black rimmed glasses and put his contacts in. Bart hated them, but he felt it made him look better in a way. Blinking away the water in his eyes, he looked at his reflection; His hair- unmanageable with streaks of unused gel gleaming in the bathroom-light. His skin- patchy and dry at best. His face- strangely rounded and he felt it was too fat. “Get used to it. You’ve only got one face.” Bart sighed at his reflection.

The clock read 8:37.

Upstairs, he dressed himself for an interview he had that morning at 10:00. He wore a blue dress shirt, a few sizes too big, and a light blue tie, tightened like a noose around his neck. Slipping on some black dress pants and socks, he decided he felt like he was going to church. Smiling to himself, Bart grabbed examples of his unrealized genius and rushed off to his car. He shoved the papers into the backseat and hurried over to the driver’s side door. Climbing in, he fumbled with his keys, when he realized he had forgotten the car keys back in the house. Bart, being very annoyed at this point, slid out of the car and ran inside. He found the keys right where they always were- on the hook by the door. Returning to his car, he inserted the key into the starter. Holding his breath, he turned the key. It made a strange, scratching sound. “Come on.” He growled through gritted teeth. After a few moments of hesitation, the car sprung to life.

The clock read 9:30.

Thanking the almighty Lord, he sped off down the curvy road towards the highway. To his dismay, traffic was backed up all the way off the onramp. Groaning, he took his place in line. When Bart finally got on the road, the traffic was so thick that he hardly moved at all. It would have only taken him a few moments to get to the interview, but instead he had to hit the worst traffic of the day.

The clock read 9:15.

He barely made it to the interview. He couldn’t blame the highway though. There had been a terrible accident which had resulted in the traffic, but he still burst into the room at 9:57, his hair flopping and the papers flying. The man had his back to Bart, and he seemed annoyed, or perhaps bored, he couldn’t tell.
“Sorry sir! Traffic was brutal sir!” Bart gasped as he spilled his papers from his arms onto a provided desk in front of the well-dressed, gray haired man. The man did not answer Bart’s apology, he only stood and looked outside of his office through the strangely clean glass.
“Bart,” the man began without turning around, “How often are you late.” Bart paused. I’m not even that late…

“Not often sir. I promise it won’t-“

He put up his hand and stopped Bart’s sentence. “Enough. You have wasted enough of my time.” He sighed as he leaned against his leather chair and ran his hand though his thin hair. “I knew offering this job to a younger man was a mistake.”

“But-“

“No, please stop.” He said as he slouched into his chair. “I’ve heard enough.” He turned back towards the window and said, “This job is crafted for a skilled, professional man and I do not think that you have the capacity for this job, boy.”

Bart gathered up some of his designs into his hands, “You haven’t even seen my designs! I’m positive that these designs will work for your plans! I-” Bart was cut off by a sharp noise. The man dressed in an expensive gray suit had turned and had slammed his fist onto the desk and shouted,

“Enough! I have no need for your services!” He sighed and looked up into Bart’s face and said more calmly, “I’m sure your plans are perfectly crafted for my purpose. But, I cannot have a young and unexperienced man on my staff.”

How am I supposed to gain experience if you won’t hire me??

“I’m sorry. I hope you will find somewhere.” He dismissed Bart with a wave of his hand and turned to look out the window once again.

Infuriated, Bart gathered his things and restrained the urge to snap the man’s neck as he left the building. Shoving his things into the car, he drove off towards the bridge leading out of the city. He just drove away. Thoughts about his hair, his face, and his eyes filled his head. One thing after another pounced on his psyche and his thoughts turned towards self-worth and self-love. Soon, he found himself on a hill overlooking the city by the time night fell.

“What now?” he asked the universe who was slowly emerging from its slumber above him, “No job. No life. No purpose.” Bart slumped down in his chair as he stared at the setting sun and the lonely stars unraveling themselves from the colors around them to create a new landscape. Bart wasn’t one for large changes, but the stars just seemed so small, so insignificant, so that when they emerged, he felt nothing. But when the sun arose each morning, the change from dark to light caused him to flinch.

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, his mind decided to remind him about his date. Bart surprised himself by smiling. He was excited, he was happy to have something to look forward to. He had forgotten about the joy of surprise, the joy of change.
 


His friends had insisted on assisting his process of getting ready before his date. As a result of this, a group of seven people occupied his house and began bustling this way and that, attempting to make his “first date” perfect.

“No! He should wear just a dress shirt and jeans. Girls love that.” Tamera said as she held up a light blue shirt that Bart had forgotten completely about.

“Seriously, Tina?” Scoffed Helen, “He wouldn’t be caught dead in that. That’s why he hasn’t worn that in the last year. At least.” Tamera rolled her eyes as she still clutched the blue shirt. “I think,” Helen began, “He should wear stripes. He always looks good in stripes.”

“I don’t have any striped shirts…” Bart said nervously. He was honestly scared of these girls sitting in his room and digging though his closet, judging everything he owned.

“Oh that’s alright, dear! I brought one of Tanner’s that might fit you.” Helen held up a green and white striped shirt and smiled at Bart, “See! It’ll look great!” Bart nodded as he looked at the shirt with distaste.

“NO! The light blue!” Insisted Tamera.

“Dear, he wouldn’t dare wear that.” Sighed Helen.

“He hates your shirt.”

“Oh! How dare you! He loves it.”

He didn’t love it.

“Okay. Ladies! Ladies!” interjected Tanner as he stepped between the feuding girls. “I think Bart needs a man’s opinion.” He turned to Helen, “Don’t you think, dearest?” He pecked her nose with a kiss and Helen melted.

“Fine. I guess it’s good for him to have another opinion.” Helen sighed as she stepped off to the side. Walking over to Bart, Tanner put his arm around his shoulders and led him away from the girls.

“Thank you man.” Bart silently exclaimed as they began their man-counsel.

“No problem. I saw you dying a bit over there. And, I hate that shirt too. Helen just bought it for me so I have to wear it.” Tanner painfully explained. “Anyway, you just have to be yourself. Dress the way you’d dress if you were meeting the woman of your dreams, and you’ll be set.” Bart thanked him and went over to his ran-sacked closet. He was digging through a pile of shirts when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Michael. He looked a bit sad, so Bart asked,

“What’s up?” Michael leaned over and whispered,

“I’m so happy I forced you into this. My little bro going on a date!” Michael embraced him into a crushing hug, which was awkward because Michael was easily five inches taller than Bart, so he was lifted off the ground.

“Oof! Michael. Stop. I’m. Dying a bit.” Squeaked Bart.

“Oh, sorry.” Michael said as he returned Bart’s feet to the ground. “I’m proud of you man.”

“Thanks?” Bart asked as he returned to rummaging through his clothes. Soon, he had put together an outfit he felt was who he was, but also what he’d like to meet a potential girlfriend in. He changed and emerged from the bathroom and into his room where he found his friends gathered in a semicircle around the door.

He wore a white dress shirt with a black vest over it. He had dark wash jeans and black shoes and socks, and on his face he wore his black rimmed glasses.

“So? What do you guys think?” Bart asked hesitantly. He wouldn’t go on any date without their approval, they knew much better than he did.

“Hmm. I think you look good.” Tamera said as she studied him.

“Agreed. I absolutely love the vest.” Helen exclaimed happily.

“Looking good, bro.” Michael approved.

“I think you’re ready for your date.” Tanner stated sincerely. Walking over to Bart, “Congratulations, you are now a man.” Bart laughed,

“Thank you! I’m actually kind of nervous.”

“Understandable.” Tanner said with a shrug. “Just don’t think anything of it. I’m sure she’s a cool girl.”

“She’d have to be to date you.” Tamera said teasingly. Helen giggled and said,

“I can picture it now! Your love will be front page news!”

 

 

 

Setting out on his adventure, Bart stopped by a flower shop on his way to the restaurant. He entered the foreign land of flowers and struggled to choose something nice. So, deciding to play it safe, he bought a single red rose.

He slowly made his way into the city towards the restaurant. Truthfully, he was terrified. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding and his palms wouldn’t stop sweating, and he couldn’t stop thinking about all possible outcomes of the meeting.

What if she was a mean and terrible person?

What if she was a prisoner that broke out of jail?

What if she was a psychopath that wanted to murder him?

What if she wasn’t even a girl!

He shuddered at the thought. Bart pressed on and finally he made it to the restaurant early, despite his snail-pace driving. The sky was dark and the restaurant shone with yellow light that leaked out onto the sidewalk, illuminating the path. It was for the most part deserted outside the windows, except a hunched figure just outside the realm of light. The figure seemed to be standing on shaking feet and her voice cracked when she tried to say something to Bart as he approached the restaurant. He turned and looked at the figure. Bart couldn’t make out the features of the figure’s face, but it was reaching out to him with a gnarled hand. He walked over and placed the rose and ten dollars into their outstretched hand and said with a smile, “I hope you have a lovely night. It is Valentine’s day after all.” He returned to the restaurant, and was shown to the reserved table he had prepared. He fidgeted for the next twenty minutes until he noticed a woman walk in the door. He sat up expectantly, but she was shown to another table. He slumped back into his chair with a disgruntled frown. Slowly loosing hope, he began to think he was being stood up.

After a while, he decided he was going to leave. Bart stood, but he noticed someone enter. She was dressed simply in a white dress and white shoes and had big, clunky glasses that actually complemented her round face. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she was breathing heavily from running. She seemed to be the one he was waiting for. She looked over in Bart’s direction, and he realized he was still standing. Awkwardly, he sat again, but then he realized she was approaching the table. He jumped up and pulled out her chair for her. She sat in it with a smile and thanked him. He scurried over to his chair and gracefully fell into it. He looked at her, she looked at the floor. He looked at the ceiling, she looked at him. This strange dance occurred for a good ten minutes until their eyes finally met. Bart smiled and began with, “Hello, I’m Bart Evack.”

How stupid am I? She already knew that; it’s on my profile!

As he mentally beat himself up, she smiled and returned with,

“Hello Bart, I’m-” She paused, only slightly, then continued, “Joules, like the energy. Joules Darington.”

“That’s a really cool name.” Bart said, transfixed on her. She was incredibly interesting. “What do you do for a living?” The question seemed to catch her off guard, as she stumbled over her words.

“Well, uh, I just got out of a truly horrible job working for a private employer, and now I’m doing my own research.” She took a sip of water then continued, “I’m a physicist working on general relativity, and I’m hired by people who have questions the need answering.”

Bart’s doctorate in Engineering seemed small now.

“That seems exciting!” Bart said as he took a gulp of water.

“Well, it can be. But most of the time it’s just running into dead ends.” Joules explained. “My branch of physics isn’t exactly set in fact. But enough about me! What do you do?”

“Well, I would be an Engineer, but you know,” Bart sighed, “Times are tough.”

“I hear that.” Joules said and raised her water glass. Bart smiled and clinked his glass with hers,

“Here’s to the unemployed doctorate holders.”

The night was amazing. He had a fair amount of laughs and learned new things from her. She was fantastic in every sense of the word to Bart. “We should do this again.” He said as he pulled out her chair at the end of the night.

“Agreed.” She said with a smile. “You’ll need my number then.”

Score!

Walking out of the restaurant triumphantly, he noticed that the figure had gone, but his ten dollars was lying on the ground. He looked around for the stranger, and shrugged as he picked up the bill. He climbed into his car just as it began to snow. It was February after all, he shouldn’t be surprised. Before Bart left, he looked over at Joules as she walked to her car, her dark coat rapped snugly around her shoulders. She climbed into her clunker and drove off. Only after Bart was sure she was safely on the road did he start his car to go.

 He hadn’t had a better night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2013 Marissa


Author's Note

Marissa
I'd like critique. Any kind, but please realize that this is an art form, and I am the artist using words as my medium. I use my medium as I see fit.

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Reviews

“Oh! How dare you! He loves it.”

He didn’t love it.
Laughing so hard XD I loved it. Great plotline and characters :) I certainly hope there will be more to come ;) I can't wait! xx

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 10 Years Ago



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Added on December 7, 2013
Last Updated on December 26, 2013
Tags: #Story, #wip

Author

Marissa
Marissa

Grand Rapids, MI



About
I'm someone who just writes what she thinks. I don't write to please anyone, I write for me. more..

Writing
One Day One Day

A Story by Marissa