Stood Up

Danson slouched down on the chair, his legs far underneath the round table than where they should have been. He glanced at his wristwatch for what was probably the twentieth time. It was 7:30 and Elizabeth was supposed to meet him at Corrado’s, a small Italian restaurant, a half hour ago. But she wasn’t here yet and Danson felt like everyone in the restaurant was staring at him.



He took another sip of his ice water, almost empty, while Elizabeth’s glass was full, condensation forming and creating a wet circle around the napkin across the table.



Danson jumped in his chair.



“More water?” the short and bored-looking busboy asked him, already pouring water into Danson’s glass.



“Thanks,” he muttered, feeling a rush of heat in his face and hoping the boy wasn’t secretly judging him. It was obvious and unfortunately Danson knew that he eventually needed to face the fact that he was stood up although he wouldn’t let himself come to that conclusion just yet. He was really looking forward to seeing Elizabeth.



Elizabeth was an attractive girl with dark-brown hair and honey-colored eyes. She had freckles that looked like they were sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. Her cheeks were rose-tinted and two dimples always appeared in the center of them when she smiled, which was often. She wasn’t the typical Los Angeles girl, she was in good shape, but not stick-thin, like most girls she associated with. She seemed different, and that’s why Danson liked her.



He had met her only once when his sister Jessica invited him along to her birthday celebration at The Joint which Danson was dreading going to at first. But after seeing Elizabeth from across the bar with one elbow propped on the bar’s surface staring at something Danson couldn’t point out and politely sipping a bright-blue colored drink, he couldn’t move his eyes away from where she was standing. She wasn’t talking to anyone, Danson noticed, and he couldn’t even muster the courage to say ‘hello’ to her.



When he and his sister returned home that night, he wouldn’t stop questioning her about Elizabeth and why Jessica hadn’t mentioned her before.



Snapping back into the present moment, Danson started making up possible excuses in his head, certain that one of them was the reason why Elizabeth hadn’t shown up yet.



Girls take a lifetime getting ready for a date, he thought, she probably made one mistake when putting on her makeup and had to wash her face and apply it all over again. But that wouldn’t take a half hour, his conscience unwelcomely chimed in. Or maybe her hair straightener wouldn’t work and she was having some sort of crisis getting it into her preferred style. Or maybe she just misread the text and thought they were supposed to meet at eight instead of seven.



After going over the stereotypical scenarios in his head, Danson realized that it was unfair, and he would wait ten more minutes. He blew a strong breath, anxiously waiting for Elizabeth to strut into the restaurant wearing an apologetic look on her face.



She sounded excited on the phone so Danson was baffled as to why she was putting him through this.



Danson was a good looking guy. He was 26, 6’2, lean yet built, and had olive colored skin thanks to working outside landscaping in the California sun all day. His hair was golden-brown and his emerald-green eyes mesmerized every woman he held eye contact with. He was the type of guy that by just looking at him people assumed he was taken by some lucky girl, but really he was shy and insecure. He always wore a baseball cap, so he felt exposed when he had to go to the restaurant with out it.



He planned his outfit accordingly clad in a crisp white-collared shirt, classy dark-blue jeans secured with a brown leather belt, and light-brown Sperrys.



He slowly took out his phone from his pocket hoping to see a text message from Elizabeth. The screen was lit up with one new text message, but it was from his friend Nick, asking if he still wanted to go to the Dodgers game next Thursday night. He didn’t get mad too often but in situations when he felt as if he had screwed up in like this one, disappointment reigned over his face. He began to move his chair out beneath him so he could leave the restaurant, go home and sulk. “Fuck it,” he grumbled, as he tossed a ten dollar bill on the nearly bare table, an oddly kind gesture for someone who was so livid, “fuck it.”



As he walked through the door of the restaurant Danson slide a hand through his coiffed hair and started walking back to his apartment. It was a brisk April night and the air felt refreshing. He couldn’t stop playing their phone conversation in his head, trying to detect any signals that Elizabeth was planning on flaking out. It was a blind-date, in a way. Although the two have never been alone together, they have met briefly after Jessica introduced them at her party, but Danson never gave Elizabeth an indication that he was into her.



He flipped open his phone and hit “5”, Jessica’s speed dial.



“Aren’t you supposed to be with Elizabeth right now?” Jessica asked sounding perplexed.



“Yeah, yeah I am actually. But she didn’t show so I left. She was supposed to be here around seven.”



“Really?”



“I don’t know what’s going on, have you heard from her at all today?” Danson inquired.



“No, actually. But you have right?”



“Yeah, around two I called her and she sounded excited. At least it seemed like she was.”



The other end of the line was silent.



“You there?” Danson asked.



“Yes…sorry I’m just trying to think why she stood you up.”



“Well if you figure that out let me know, because I’m wondering the same thing.”



Jessica felt his sadness over the phone. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say after a moment of silence.



“Yeah,” Danson mumbled, “I gotta go,” and he hung up. He let out a small laugh, because he knew he really didn’t have to go anywhere.