“With no lemon.” Charles wagged his finger. “You all charge for the lemon here.”
The waiter shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”
“So, how was your day today, Natalie?” Charles didn’t let the topic of his cheapness linger longer than a second.
“It was —” I paused, contemplating whether I should tell him I was let go and reassigned to another practice at the last minute, but I hadn’t even told my best friend yet. “It was great. Really, really great.”
“Mine was, too. Especially now. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you in person for quite some time.”
“Me, too.” I sipped my Shirley Temple the second the waiter set it down.
“Would you two like to share a breadstick to go with your drinks?” he asked. “A complimentary napkin, perhaps?”
“Possibly. Give us a minute, please.” Charles motioned for him to step away. “Are you still interested in coming back to my place tonight, Natalie?”
I nodded. I was still slightly speechless about the fact that he was actually taking me to Burger King after this. That, and the fact that I was going to have to mentally trick myself into thinking about something other than his cheap-ness, if this was going to work for me.
“Great! Well, there’s something I really need to tell you before we leave here. Something rather important.”
“Let me guess, you’re married?” I slung my purse over my shoulder in preparation of a “yes.”
“Ha!” he laughed. “Never. This isn’t that serious. It’s just that — Well, remember all those sext messages I’ve sent you over the weeks?”
“I remember them very well.”
“Well, good but I have to come clean. We can only have a certain type of sex because I ...”
“Because you what?”
“Because ...” He lowered his voice. “I have penile agenesis.”
Penile agenesis? I shook my head in utter disbelief. That couldn’t be.
“Do you mean erectile dysfunction?” I asked. “That’s nothing to be whispering about. It’s actually a lot more common than you may think, and not a huge deal. I say that, because you can’t possibly mean penile agenesis. That means —”
“It means I was born without a penis.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I know exactly what it means, that’s exactly why I said it.”
I blinked. “Come again?”
“You heard me. Most women are too close-minded, dumb, and selfish to be understanding about this, but I hope you’re not one of them. Are you?”
I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t even sure what to say.
All those weeks he’d teased me with message after message about how “huge and rock hard” his cock was, how he planned to “fill [my] pussy,” and now he was pulling the “I don’t have a penis” card?
“Did you or did not not say that your cock was the size of a huge sausage?” I asked. “Didn’t you say that to me, just last week?”
“Maybe. Or maybe the message cut off before I could finish typing. Maybe I meant to say my cock was more like a sausage patty.” He deadpanned. “And now it looks like you’re judging me,” he said, sighing. “Looks like you’re just as judgmental and closed-minded as the other women I’ve met.
“This isn’t about you not having a cock,” I said, I raising my voice. “This is about you lying to me. I was looking forward to fucking you!”
The entire restaurant fell silent, and my cheeks turned bright red but I didn’t stop talking. “But you know what? I lied to you, too. Today was a shitty day for me. A really, really shitty day that was the cherry on top of a shitty week because my hospital decided to transfer me to a private practice before my residency could even begin.”
“That sounds so very awful, Natalie.” He tried to reach over the table and caress my hand, but I jerked back.
“Yeah, and you know what else is awful?” I stood up from the table. “Wasting all those weeks talking online, just to come all the way out here to meet someone who blatantly lied to me. We could’ve been friends, if you’d just told me the truth from the start.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Well, is it too late to be friends now? And are you really going to leave without offering to pay for half of your drink?”
I didn’t answer him. I turned away and stormed out of the restaurant, hailing the first cab I saw.
“Hoboken, New Jersey, please,” I said to the driver. “Green Garden Condos.”
“Right away, Miss.”
I pulled out my phone so I could vent about this mess of a night to my roommate, but before I could scroll down to her name, I noticed a new instant message from D-Doctor.
D-DOCTOR: Has your date “slurped” your pussy yet? Am I interrupting?
JERSEYGIRL7: No, and you’re not interrupting anything ... If I tell you about what happened on my date tonight, can you promise that you won’t laugh?
D-DOCTOR: Probably not.
JERSEYGIRL7: I’m being serious.
D-DOCTOR: As am I. Tell me what happened and I’ll tell you whether it’s something worth laughing about or not.
JERSEYGIRL7: Well, it’s not! The date was amazing and the sex was everything I expected and more!
D-DOCTOR: Your date was supposed to be at 7:00 and it’s just now 7:35. This speaks volumes about the level of your expectations ...