Page 21 of Experiments in Offline Dating

Shit! I’d fumbled it. He probably didn’t get the reference. I had gotten too excited and lost my head. Fix it!

“Look. I definitely don’t have time for whatever the hell this is. Congratulations. You’ve outdone yourself. This is the very worst date anyone’s had in human history. I can’t wait to hear all about it on the fecking podcast.” He’d really leaned on those words, and I’d felt every one of them in my gut.

“Wait. What?” My mouth fell open. Is this part of the game? What do I do? Why did Aisling Bea not prepare me for this?

He put his wallet in his back pocket and started to go.

“Wait? Is this for real? Are you actually angry?”

He stopped. Answered like I was an idiot. “Yeah. I’m actually angry.”

“Really?” Oh crap! “But why? I’m sorry. I thought we were . . . you know . . . doing a thing.”

His whole face drew in with something that might have been disgust. “A thing? What kind of thing is that? Insulting each other until one of us storms off? Yeah. Okay. You win.”

“No. I—I thought we were having a great time.” Shit again! “Why are you mad?”

“Why? Well, to begin with, Maya, because you picked me for this fecking charade of a date when there were two other willing eejits you could have chosen.”

“You’re mad because I picked you? You took part in a dating game. You had a one-in-three chance!”

“This town finally got tired of talking about my personal life. Do you have any idea how many texts I’ve gotten in the last fifteen minutes?” He held up his phone. “Look at that! Thirty-two. The lads are having a field day with this. I’m surprised they haven’t arrived en masse to watch the train wreck yet. No doubt they’ll be here any minute. So you’ll have plenty of options to fill my chair and rip the guts out of the next sacrifice for your podcast.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I didn’t ruin this date for the podcast. I was being a jerk because you were being a jerk! Since the very first question back there, you have done nothing but be rude and insulting. I thought it was a thing. I thought you were flirting. I was trying to play along.”

“You thought I was flirting? I was being rude so that you wouldn’t pick me! I thought I made it pretty goddamn clear. I literally came out and said it. And yet here I fucking am.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that anyone could be that rude to a total stranger in earnest? I’m not from here!”

“All right, look. I’m just gonna go. I’ll tell them to put all of this on my tab. You can keep that gift certificate there and use it to lure in the next victim.”

Okay, this was an obvious misunderstanding. I had explained it to him, and he was still being a dick and a half! He was mad that I’d picked him and people were going to talk about it? I didn’t force him up there! I didn’t have to sit there and be shouted at when I had already explained myself and apologized.

“Fine! Maybe I will.”

“Perfect. Just do me a favor—if you see me in town, don’t say hello.”

But he still had to shimmy his huge body between the bench and the table to get out. And that gave me just enough time to get in one last dig.

“Sure. Well, you do me a favor. When the entire town asks how the dinner went, tell them I tried the lemon tart and it tasted like asshole.”

He stormed off in a cloud of fury so dark, I thought lightning might strike me.

Conclusion: date unsuccessful.

Uncontrollable variable: my inability to recognize that stand-up comedians make for unreliable life coaches.

Once the lemon-tart asshole was gone, I switched seats and settled back into the little alcove. The musicians had continued, seemingly oblivious to our blind-date apocalypse just a few feet away. I let out a contented sigh. This is lovely, actually. I wish he’d left sooner. A little peace and quiet was exactly what I needed. I rearranged the pillows and settled in as Connell brought two gargantuan dinners just for me.

Those chips were the biggest I’d ever seen in my whole life. They were crisp and pillowy and melt-in-your-mouth delicious and topped with crispy fresh fish fried to perfection.

He was right about the fish pie. I hated that he was right! A cheesy cream sauce was thick with salmon and shrimp and other delicious seafoods and topped with, rather than dough, mashed potatoes and popped into the oven until golden and bubbling.

This was the date I really wanted. Just me. Having a threesome with these two entrées.

I ordered two slices of bramble crumble on my tab to add to the to-go haul and texted Jackie.

I’m bringing home dinner from the tavern. What can I order for you?