Hi_I'm Larry_You must be Bertha_1st Date

This item was a collaboration bewteen myself and rosemarie written back in 2003. It's been filed away all this time. I don't believe anyone other than Rose and I has ever seen this so I thought I'd dust it off and post it here. (Originally the plan was to post this item in both our ports. Maybe Rosemarie will post it in her port also) This was my first attempt at writing a story with someone else. It's unfinished, as I quickly found myself in over my head, as this excerpt from an email I wrote Rose points out...

"If I write it "believably" I feel it will drag out. I'm also unfamilar with this genre. I take it most readers (females no doubt) want to see them get together? I'm unsure of a lot of things Rose. How much romance to add? If they do hit it off where it goes from there? Second date? I haven't read ANY romance stories other than your's remember I'm not sure if we've started writing a novel. (Not that that's a bad thing) I'm not sure how long I should be devoting to certain things and when I should be moving the story along. I very seldom read fiction."

I'm used to writing silly, meaningless flufff. Rose is a MUCH better writer than I am. She wrote all the good bits. Romance is her forte, certainly not mine, (I do silly, meaningless fluff remember), so this story didn't make it very far along before I called it quits. If you like this snippet, thank Rosemarie, if you don't, blame me.

********************************************

Hi_I'm Larry_You must be Bertha_1st Date



He checked his watch again, the fourth time in the last two minutes. Maybe she wasn't going to show. He'd already been sitting at the table now for how long? Twenty...no make that twenty six minutes. Granted he got here early but he was starting to have serious doubts whether she was coming or not.

Maybe she was out there right now in the parking lot checking him out from her car while he was sitting in front of this window. Or maybe she was already here in this coffee and donut shop. He wouldn't know if she was. All he knew about her was her name...Bertha.

Awwwwww...He only hoped she would be as lovely as his friend had assured him she would be.

He double checked his sunglasses were still perched on top of his head like his friend had requested. That was Bertha's way of identifying him. Yup...they were still there. How much longer would his pride allow him to wait?

*************************************************************

Bertha sat at one of the retro-fifties style tables at the back of the donut shop, beginning to feel the first waves of humiliation begin to wash over her. She had been there for forty minutes, had already consumed two cups of the worst coffee that she had ever drank, and was beginning to feel the almost uncontrollable urge to strangle her friend.

That Larry character - the same man that her friend, Gary, had labeled as "great" - had stood her up!!

Reaching for her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and quickly punched in the remembered number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Gary, it's Bertha."

"Hi, kid!" Gary immediately responded. "Wow, that didn't take long. So, you've fallen in love with him already, and called to thank me..."

"Not exactly," Bertha responded with asperity. Rising to her feet, she threw three dollars onto the table, nodded toward the vacated table as she walked past the waitress, and then angrily made her way toward the door.

"Okay, okay," Gary laughed. "So maybe it wasn't love at first sight. But you like him, right?"

"Nope," Bertha replied. Pulling the car door open, she slid in behind the wheel.

"You don't like him?" Gary echoed in surprise. "Why the hell not? He's a great guy!"

Turning the ignition, Bertha angrily started the car, and then immediately slammed it into reverse. "You know, it's funny, but I failed to see the 'greatness' in this guy. In fact, I failed to see ANYTHING in this guy!"

"I'm not following you, Bertie."

And suddenly, all the humiliation and mortification that was coursing through Bertha reached a zenith, and a torrent of disjointed sentences began to spill out of her, at the same time tears rushed to her eyes, blurring her vision. "H-He didn't... and I've been... I was sitting at that table.... over a half hour!" she managed in a near shout. "I've never been so embarassed! H-He's thoughtless and... cruel!"

"Whoa! Slow down..."

Bertha finally managed to sum up all of her feelings in one sentence: "I hate him!"

"Jesus! What did he say to you?" Gary suddenly demanded.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Bertha continued blinking back her tears. "He didn't say anything!" she cried.

"You mean he just sat there and didn't say anything?" Gary responded in a confused little voice. "That doesn't sound like Larry."

Bertha gave an little growl of frustration. "I don't think you have grasped the concept of what I've been sayiing!" she barked. "He didn't say anything, because he didn't show up!"

"What?"

"That's right! Your 'fun lovin', nice guy... the same person that you said that you'd trust with your life.... Oh, and by the way, I think you should rethink that trust thing; because, in my experience, he is anything but trustworthy!"

"Okay, calm down," Gary finally interjected. "There has to be some logical explanation for him not showing up. He's not that kind of guy, Bertie."

"Sure he isn't," Bertha responded dryly.

Ignoring the sarcasm that he heard in her voice, Gary said, "Now, you're sure that he wasn't there?"

"Pretty sure," Bertha responded furiously, at the same time she turned the car onto a tree-lined street. "Unless of course he had a sex change operation, gained some weight, and adopted a couple of kids!"

"What?"

"The only other person, besides me, sitting in Lyle's Donut shop was a heavy-set woman with three children!" Bertha angrily elaborated.

"Wait a minute!" Gary laughed. "Did you say, 'Lyle's Donut shop'?"

"Yes!"

"You've been sitting at Lyle's Donut shop all this time?" His laughter had increased to great gails of uncontrollable mirth.

"I told you I had!" Bertie responded. "And, I fail to see the humor in this, Gary!"

"That's because you don't realize that..."

"Realize what?"

"That, for the last half hour, you've been sitting in the wrong donut shop."

Bertha slammed on the brakes with such force, that the sound of squealing tires echoed through the interior of the car. Immediately, an angry horn blared from the car behind her, and glancing into the rear-view mirror, she saw the man seated behind the wheel, begin shouting.

"Honey, you were suppose to meet him at 'Lester's Donuts'." Bertha gasped at the same time the car behind her shot past her in an angry flash of metalic red.

"A-Are you certain?"

"Very certain," Gary replied.

"Oh, my God! Then, he's been sitting..."

"Very probably."

"H-He must hate me!"

"I doubt that very much."

With the car still sitting in the middle of the street, Bertha unconsciously picked up a strand of chestnut brown curls from her shoulder and began nervously twisting it around her finger, at the same time her mind began searching for a plausible explanation to give Larry.

Finally she said, "Do you think he'd buy the story that I had temporarily been abducted by gypsies?" she queried hopefully.

"Nope."

"I could tell him that I had a flat tire. And since women don't change flat tires..."

"Some women change flat tires, Bertie," Gary laughingly corrected her.

"They do?" Bertha echoed in surprise. "Are you certain?"

"Very certain."

"Oh."

Laughing, Gary said, "You know, you could always try telling him the truth."

"The truth?" Bertha gasped. "Are you insane? H-He'll think..."

"That you're a little ditzy."

"I am not ditzy!" Bertha argued.

"Bertha, where are you now?"

"Sitting in my car in the middle of Elm street," she thoughtlessly replied.

"But, you aren't ditzy," Gary teasingly countered.

Shoving the car into drive, Bertha hit the accelerator.

Laughing, Gary asked, "Do you want me to call him on his cell phone and tell him what happened?"

"Heaven's no!" Bertha replied. Turning on her blinker, she rounded the next corner. "I'm only two blocks from there. I'll.... well, I'll tell him.... something... when I see him."

"Bertie, just tell him the truth," Gary advised.

"I am not telling him the truth!" Bertie firmly informed him.

"Bertie..."

"Oh, just go away! I can handle this myself!"

"Sure you can."

Gary's laughter was still ringing in her ears when Bertie furiously slammed the flip-phone closed.

Throwing it onto the seat beside her, she whipped the car around the corner, at an amazing speed, while at the same time her mind searched for a convincing story that would excuse her tardiness.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed to come to her.

He tried to appear calm even though he could feel his blood pressure rising. He found his eyes glued to the door and the coming and going of the costumers.

"Could this be her?" he'd ask himself with each new possible candiate.

"Nope. Not unless she's brought her hubby along."

"No...Hang on....Maybe...Nope."

"This one? Oh oh...I hope not. I prefer a little less facial hair."

With her thoughts still consumed with images of car trouble, a sick relative, and malfunctioning garage door openers, she pulled into the parking lot in front of the donut shop, slipped into a parking place, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the little yellow volkswagon bug.

Nervously trapping a wayward curl behind her left ear, Bertie took a deep breath, pulled open the donut shop door, and absentmindedly wondered if he would believe her if she told him that the cat had gotten out this morning and that she'd had to search the neighborhood for it.

Frantically, her eyes searched the shop's interior. Dismissing the 70 or so year old man sitting at the first table, she continued looking around the brightly lit interior.

And then she saw him.

Sitting in front of the large window, two empty Styrofoam coffee cups sitting on the table in front of him, was a dark-haired man with sunglasses perched on top of his head.

He seemed to be lost in thought as he ran the tip of his index finger around the table top. It looked as if he were drawing an imagined figure onto the Formica.

Hadn't Gary mentioned something about Larry being an artist?

Lord, she couldn't remember!

In truth, the only thing that she was relatively certain of, right now, was that there was no way in the world that he would believe her if she told him that the electricity had gone out in her apartment building and she had been stuck in the elevator for the last half hour.

Drawing in a deep breath for fortification, she made her way around the carefully placed tables inside the shop.

He finally pulled his attention away from his current art project when Bertha came to a stop in front of his table.

"Hi," she finally managed to say, when his brown-eyed gaze finally rose and locked on hers.

Immediately, he rose to his feet. "Bertha?"

He quickly said a silent prayer. "Please be Bertha. Please be Bertha."

Bertha managed a nervous little nod.

"Thank you God." He said to himself. He began to mentally thank Gary for his good fortune. He had said she was lovely...but she was downright gorgeous! Definitely his type."

Smiling, Larry offered his hand to her. "Hi, Bertha, I'm Larry. It's nice to finally meet you," he politely responded.

"The word, 'finally', wasn't lost on Bertha. She knew that some explanation for her tardiness was in order; and taking the seat he held out for her, she once again wracked her mind for some plausible explanation.

Retaking his seat, Larry turned eyes, shining with expectancy, to hers; and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt that the time for explanations had come.

Clearing her throat nervously, she once again trapped that stubborn little curl behind her ear, and stammeringly began. "I-I'm sorry that I'm late. I'm afraid that...."

She couldn't seem to stop herself from nervously wiggling in her seat, at the same time she dropped her gaze to the gleaming table top in front of her.

"That...?" he prompted.

Unaware that a slow, knowing smile was pulling at the corner of his lips, she said, "Well... I...."

For the life of her, she couldn't seem to make any more words come out of her mouth. Anxiously, she swallowed.

"You," Larry teasingly surmised.

Once again Bertha nodded. And then, with a sigh of surrender, she gave in to the inevitable.

Raising her gaze to his, she looked at him, and forced herself to confess the very thing that she had secretly sworn that he would never know.

"Larry?"

"Yeah."

"I'm a little ditzy."

Larry was unfamilar with the term ditzy but he got the general gist of it. Just the sound of the word made him grin from ear to ear.

"I've never met a little ditzy before. I take it ditzys come in all sizes then. If you're anything to go by...I think I've just become a ditzy fan."

He found it nice to be grinning again. He hadn't been doing much grinning the last fifteen minutes or so. The sunglasses perched on top of his head made him feel like there was a giant neon sign above him flashing...blind date reject...for the whole room to see. He was just deciding whether to stay or leave when she turned up.

Immediately he felt at ease with her. This was a good sign. Larry looked for other signs as they chatted over hot cocoa and blueberry muffins. His eyes kept being drawn to her brown eyes and her chestnut colored shoulder length hair.

Hmmmmmmm, he wondered if it felt half as soft as it looked. He'd love the opportunity to feel it brush against his face. He suddenly had this mental image of the two of them...sequestered away alone together in some secluded wilderness mountain cabin somewhere. He was warming his feet while sitting in front of a fire. Suddenly there were her gorgeous brown chestnut coloured tresses brushing against his cheek as she approached him from behind...kissing his forehead before snuggling down into his arms as they sat before the roaring fire.

"So you're a kindergarten teacher? I think that's great Bertha. I can't remember too much about my kindergarten days except that I couldn't grasp the concept of nap time or the importance of colouring in between the lines. I love kids. I imagine life can get hectic at times huh?

Bertha laughed. "You have no idea! There are times when I feel as if I'm knee deep in five-year-olds!"

"I think if you can handle a room full of children you should be qualified to work in NASA's mission control. I'm sure you're able to react to any unforseen emergency," he said with a big smile.

"Well, I admit that I've learned to put out fires pretty well," she replied with a smile. "But, I'm afraid that I'm not exactly NASA material. As you've probably surmised, I'm not exactly a logical thinker."

Berta absorbed the sound of his laughter, and felt her own bubble to the surface. Relaxing back in her chair, she crossed one leg over the other, and looked at him with feigned skepticism. "Hmmmm, let me guess... you're a nuclear physicist?"

The twinkle in his eyes told her without words that she had guessed incorrectly.

"Okay, I give up. What do you do?"

"What do I do for a living?"

Bertha gave an eager little nod of her head.

"I sharpen skates."

There was a brief awkward pause.

"Oh," she finally managed, "I've always considered that to be a lost art form."

"Actually I lied. I didn't want you to know what a dull job I really have. I hoped you'd think I did something exciting and glamorous like sharpen skates, but the truth is...I sell bathtubs. I sell bathtubs in a huge home improvements store...Not sinks...Only bathtubs. There's really no way of jazzing that up is there? I guess that's why there's not too many movies being made about bathtub salesmen." he said somewhat sheepishly.

"Well, that isn't exactly true," Bertha replied, tilting her head to the side as she contemplated the matter.

He raised a single brow, which she precieved as a silent challenge for her to continue.

"Actually, there are several movies with bathtubs in them."

He furrowed his forehead now when he realized she had misunderstood his comment about there not being too many bathtub salesmen movies being made. He wondered if he should point it out or not but decided it wasn't that important.

"Did you happen to see the movie Hanging up?"

Larry shook his head.

"Well, there's a scene involving Meg Ryan and a darling bathtub. Oh, and then there's Fatal Attraction, " she quickly continued. "There's an antique claw-foot bathtub in it." Frowning slightly, she added, "Of course, Michael Douglas ends up trying to drown Glen Close in it."

Bertha saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips. He couldn't help but smile when she mentioned Fatal Attraction on their first date.

"Yes, bathtubs are present in many movies, and nearly every home; so to my way of thinking you are assisting in everyday life and the motion picture industry as well," she announced, giving a firm nod of her head for added emphasis.

He took another sip of his hot cocoa. "So...How do you feel about muskrats?" he asked, with an impish cocoa and melted marshmellow mustache grin.

Bertha stared at the marshmallow clinging to his upper lip and felt the almost uncontollable urge to kiss it away.

He was testing her. Looking for more signs. He wanted to see how she would react to his odd sense of humour. To see if she was a whimsical free spirit also. To see what kind of mind this Bertha had under all that gorgeous chestnut coloured hair. He wondered if that hair smelled as inviting as it looked. Larry figured if they could talk about muskrats five minutes into their first date then they should be able to talk about anything.

Forcing her gaze away from that enticing bit of marshmallow that his tongue had failed to erase from his lip, she tried to concentrate on what he had said.

"Muskrats," Bertha mused, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she contemplated the matter.

"Well, although they don't hold the same appeal as a bathtub full of bubbles, I must admit that they're as cute as cute can be."

Realizing that she was once again twisting her hair, she quickly dropped the strand. "You know, I think that if I were a Muskrat, I'd want to be called a Muskrat, as oppose to 'mud beaver'. Mud beaver is such an unappealing little name, don't you think?"

"Mud beavers? Is that dirty rodent talk Bertha?" He couln't help but burst out in laughter now. He was very please with how she had handled his muskrat question. This Bertha was clever and witty besides being gorgeous.

Bertha giggled. "Yep, I got it from one of those 900-muskrat calls that I made. I HAD to call, you understand," she added with a mischievous little twinkle in her eyes,. "I was simply too curious to be able to resist the temptation."

"Please don't mind me Bertha. I have an odd sense of humour...or so I'm told. I have my serious side to but I do enjoy a good laugh. So...It seems we have a mutual friend...Gary. He's a great guy isn't he? I wish I was half the man he is. I'm going to have thank him for allowing me this opportunity to meet you."

When Larry mentioned Gary's name, Bertha immediately remembered that she hadn't exactly ended their call on a friendly note. Silently she made a promise to herself that she would call him back the minute that she got into her car, and apologize.

Bertha noticed that Larry was eyeing her curiously, and knowing that he probably saw the remorse in her expression, she said, "Larry, I have a confession..."

A single brow rose in curiosity.

"I wasn't exactly nice to Gary when I thought that his friend had stood me up."

Larry smiled in understanding.

"But, now that I've met you," Bertha continued, returning his smile, "I have great plans for making ammends."

Larry now leaned in closer across the small table towards Bertha. He wanted to take her hand in his but wondered if she would precieve him as being too forward this early into their date. He decided better safe than sorry. He didn't want to blow it.

"My but you've got friendly eyes. They're absolutely beautiful. They're caring eyes. I think you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes. A person who has caring eyes couldn't possibly have a cruel heart."

Mimicking his position, Bertha leaned closer. "And, you can tell how intelligent a person is by looking in their eyes too," she softly informed him. "It's the same with dogs."

Larry laughed.

"And you have very intelligent eyes," she told him, at the same time she placed her hand onto the table top, near his.

"So...how has life been for you in Berthaland?"

"Actually," she softly replied, "I feel a bit like Alice."

********************************************

There was more to the story, something to do with sushi and visiting a fortune teller if I recall, but I can't find those parts. Sorry. I just looked in on Larry and Bertha and they're still at the donut shop. They ran out of stuff to talk about back in 2003 sometime. They think they're now having a VERY long first date awkward moment.