Death by Idiom WC 272

Death by Idiom

Starbucks was busy and, therefore, noisy, but I couldn’t think of where else to meet for a blind date. In case you don't like each other, an intimate place isn't a good idea. Harder to escape.

I need to be honest here. I meant to say: in case she was ugly. Yes, I’m shallow.

I watched the door for 'the woman in the red sweater' to enter. And there she was—drop-dead gorgeous. Introductions were made; I noticed she had an accent of some type. Could I live with that?

Once we settled in with our coffee, Gina and I learned about each other.

“What part of Mexico are you from? It’s a big place.”

“A little village near the sea,” Gina said. “And you?”

“I’ve lived in California my whole life,” I said.

“California’s a big place,” she said.

This exotic beauty was a clever one.

“The LA area,” I said. “I’ve been in Malibu for about three years.”

She was educated, well-spoken, and beautiful, though her accent was hard to understand, especially with the noise.

“Let’s book,” I said. "Too noisy."

“Book?”

“Leave. Find another place. It’s a--a saying, an—ah idiom. Like ‘We’re not out of the woods yet’, and ‘You could have knocked me over with a feather.’

Gina looked puzzled.

“Or ‘beat around the bush’.”

“Strange language, English.”

She seemed upset. I could tell I was losing her.

“It takes a while to get the hang of it, sweetie.”

Brow furrowed, she stood up, thanked me for the coffee, and exited--leaving her untouched latte venti on the table.

And I was worried about her accent. Huh!