The Weekday One Hundred

She stared at her date from across the table. Was this man made of stone?

That was the only possible excuse. Why else hadn’t he made a move?

She knew he was interested. He had asked her out on multiple dates.

She knew he was straight. They met on a popular dating site.

So what? What more did she have to do?

She continued to rub her foot against his. Still nothing.

Then she heard someone clear their throat. Except it wasn’t him.

“If you don’t mind,” said the elderly red-faced man at the next table.

Valid request, she thought.