Toothbrush

It was dramatic. It was eye-catching. It was a toothbrush.

Sara who had never had much patience in the first place was steadily losing her extremely fragile grip on her temper.  Yet the fool in front of her continued to prattle on and on about his newest project for his Marketing and Advertising class.

It was not that difficult. They had to market any simple household product of their choice in a new and innovative manner. It was simply not worth the importance that her date was attaching to it. From the way he was talking about it, she expected it to start tap-dancing any minute. But unfortunately, it did not oblige.

Suddenly there was silence. Sara contemplated her pasta and hoped against hope that her companion had choked on an olive. Sadly, it was not so. He merely had noticed that the fruity little drink she had ordered was over. "Would you like some more?" he asked, already signalling the waitress for a refill.

The aforementioned waitress sauntered over and gave him a lascivious wink before showing too much chest while pouring the drink, an action that should be baring little to no cleavage at all. Sara absently wondered why she was so interested in her date. While he was good looking (the only reason Sara had agreed to go out with him in the first place), it was obvious that the waitress had not heard him speak.

Why he got a toothbrush painted all seven shades of the rainbow to their date, she did not know nor did she want to find out. Stuffing her salad as fast as possible into her mouth, she chewed vigorously. That was the only thing that was keeping him alive at the moment and Sara did not look forward to a long prison tenure if her knife slipped and buried itself some place that would shut him up for good.

“Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom.” she said through clenched teeth, giving him her phoniest smile. He actually looked disappointed and Sara was horrified. Did that mean that he wanted to blabber on more about that blasted piece of plastic? She fervently hoped that it would spontaneously combust, taking its owner along with it. Preferably within the hour she was going to spend locked up in the ladies room 'washing her hands'. Too bad her tiny little clutch for the evening could only hold her cell phone, some cash and her lipstick but not much else. She was looking forward to finishing that little romance her best friend had given her.

The moment she left her seat, she spotted the waitress who had tried to put the moves on the budding toothbrush salesman that had asked her out. She wondered if she should feel jealous. then decided that he was simply not worth the effort. If Madam Waitress wanted him, she could have him; toothbrush and all.

Meanwhile Sara herself could not wait to reach her safe haven so she picked up her pace and broke into a full sprint. She had never been so eager to visit the rather uninteresting ladies room before, not even the three times she had been there previously that evening.

Not for the first time she cursed her pride for her utter inability to walk away from the simplest of dares. This one prevented from developing a migraine or any of her relatives from suddenly expiring.

Sighing gustily, she made herself comfortable and started her favourite game on her phone. Demolishing ten levels had never been easier but try as hard as she could, she could not manage to slaughter the last little green piggy in the eleventh level. Giving up, she looked at the time and was horrified to note that it was almost time for the restaurant to close. Fully expecting to find that her date had left, she immediately checked whether she had her trusty card with her. It would be just like him to leave her the tab while he went home to worship his toothbrush some more.

Sneaking out did not take all those ninja skills she had practised long and hard in those good old days when toothbrushes were only meant to be used to brush teeth and spray paint. In fact she needn't have bothered being all sneaky. The restaurant was empty. Neither the customers nor the staff remained.

She thought he had left but corrected her mistaken assumptions when she saw that his jacket was still slung over the back of the chair. The table had been cleared and the food had been paid for.

Cheering up immensely at this unexpected escape, she hailed a taxi and left for home peripherally acknowledging the sacrifice of the benevolent waitress who had given up her dignity in the name of a hot guy.

~~~~

A very dazed looking young man made his way down the lobby an apartment complex wherein a single flat's rent for a month could have comfortably fed a family for the rest of their natural lives. Fumbling with the keys, he stumbled into the penthouse suite, struggled with his jacket, realised that he had left it behind at the restaurant then collapsed onto the bed.

An insistent beeping from his wrist watch made him turn on the TV. How those two actions were connected, it was not known.

A fortune teller's dulcet tones roused him out of his stupor. “You will be attacked by a beast who has the body of a wolf, the tail of a lion, and the face of Donald Duck.” she proclaimed. Shocked, he sat straight up, rubbed his face repeatedly and continued listening with rapt attention as she continued to announce an avalanche of pudding that was  expected to happen any time next month. But the wristwatch beeped again and he was again reminded of what he put the television set on for in the first place. He pressed a complicated series of numbers on the remote control and was rewarded with static.

The picture slowly cleared by which time he had made himself presentable and was standing in attention. Raising the toothbrush high, he performed a full-fledged military salute which involved bringing it in front of his face and nearly touching the bristles to his nose. Yes, it was the very same toothbrush that had given his date so much grief.

The Television set now showed the image of a military officer. Only he appeared to have ditched his usual green uniform and had chosen to don a loud and colourful shirt instead. “Agent Sixty Nine. Report!” he commanded.

“The candidate was unsuitable, sir!” he replied. “The candidate did not display any signs of interest in our traditions and customs and escaped via the water closet, sir.” His superior acknowledged that he was listening. “The next candidate I interviewed showed intentions of taking any sort of responsibility or committing herself to anything.”

The commanding officer sighed. Theirs was a long standing mission of critical importance with untold amounts of resources at their disposal. However, they were no closer to completing it than when they had started it twenty years ago. “You did a good job, son. But this is getting us nowhere. You may move on to the next location.”

“But we cannot terminate this mission so abruptly!” the aforementioned offspring cried heatedly. “We need a new queen! Someone to lead us to peace and prosperity!”

“I understand that. But you are obviously not going to find her on this planet. I expect you to leave within an hour.” the senior officer ordered and his son reluctantly acquiesced.

“All hail the Toothbrush!” he cried.

“All hail the Toothbrush.” echoed Agent Sixty Nine. “Over and out.”