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A Christmas Encounter (standard:humor, 2069 words) | |||
Author: FFCScripter | Added: Sep 27 2000 | Views/Reads: 3909/2429 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A short story about the adventures of two young people, having met via a mutual friend, and the trouble that ensues as their personalities blend into hilarity and wit..... | |||
The wind was sweeping the snow into flurries along Interstate 66 as the Jeep glided smoothly home. The Christmas season had gone well; not only at the retail store in which I worked but at home as well. It had been an enjoyable holiday break, but that may possibly have all ended on the night in question had there not also been others taking advantage of the hours off from work or from school by choosing to dine out. My favorite of friends had introduced me to a favorite friend of hers, and it was agreed that we two strangers keep each other company until our mutual favorite was finished at her culinary job. It was because of such that I found myself in a car and in silence. t was an awkward silence. I stole a quick glance at the person next to me, his hands on the steering wheel, eyes fixated on the road. Why wouldn’t he say something? Was he waiting for me to start a conversation? I hoped not. I hardly knew him, but here I was, coasting down the highway in his jeep, headed to who knew where, with only the steady drone of the highway and constant click of the heater to break the silence between us. I decided to speak first. So, um, where do you want to eat?” Nervously, I turned my face to his and smiled, hoping to incite conversation, or at least obtain a better idea of what to expect for the next few hours. It was the most crucial part, the dinner, for it could lead to either quick and lively conversation, resulting in a wonderful evening with the possibilities of a repeat, or could turn sour and die before the main course, leaving not only a bad taste and empty belly but an unfavorable mark on both parties, thus eliminating any chances of a follow-up. I prayed he wouldn’t opt for McDonalds. Well, I really don’t want to eat at Micky D’s, so I was thinking maybe AppleBees.” I squealed with excitement. I loved AppleBees! The evening was off to a great start already. We arrived at AppleBees and took our seats. By now the channels of conversation had been opened, and we were talking and laughing amongst ourselves as though we were old friends. I questioned him concerning his life in California, clinging to every word. Stories of movie stars and Nickelodeon filled the air, captivating me in awe and anticipation. I was mystified as his lips moved gracefully, uttering unbelievable tales in casual conversation, as though happening upon such divas as Ashley Judd and Goldie Hawn were common place occurrences in everyone’s life. Captivating, simply captivating, it was. We ordered our food and the banter continued. I warmed up to him immediately, with a seemingly equal attraction radiating from him toward me. The food came without our even realizing time had passed. It wasn’t until the platters of steaming morsels were placed before us that we finally clicked, and our creative juices intermingled, conjuring a festive potion of frolicsome fun and delight. We immediately set to work on the edibles, painstakingly taking bites between paragraphs, the music of our dialogue ringing in our ears as we filled the gaps of our personalities, giving more and more information as to our likes and dislikes. How alike we were! I carefully watched him cast a mischievous eye over the other patrons in the dining establishment, and leaned in closely when his voice dropped so as not to miss a solitary word. “We are surrounded,” he spake in hushed terms, “by unsuspecting partakers in the same delicacies as we ourselves have partaken in.” I was enthralled at the gentle lilt and rhythmic meter of his speech. It was as though I was watching Homer write an epic, or Shakespeare pen a play. “The difference between them and us, my dear sir, is what they hold to be their audience. They are too consumed and concerned with supplementing their appetites and fulfilling their dietary needs to recognize the likes of us.” I was on the edge of my seat, drinking in every word, not daring to guess at where his prolific testimony was leading. It was too exciting, too surreal, to analyze. “Therefore,” he continued, “I propose that we divert their attention from their flatware and focus instead their attention to us. We are, after all, going to one day be the idols of their children, powerful citizens of this great country, and it is only fair that we allow these people moments that they may reflect upon in future years. They will savor this day, for they will recall, and believe, that they were more glorious and dignified than we two shall be this day. Having said Click here to read the rest of this story (124 more lines)
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