I Guess I'll Never Get To Call You Mine
CHUCK
I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I’ve been on dinner dates before with Ashley (she forced me to wear suits gah) but I’m usually cool about it. Tonight is supposed to be no different. We were going out to eat in a posh restaurant. A walk in the park or a night staying indoors with a movie is actually more my cup of tea but I wasn’t going to tell Ashley that. She enjoys socializing and she’d have me along to accompany her. Don’t get me wrong it’s not that I don’t enjoy spending time with her. It’s just that I wish I’d have the opportunity to show her some of my favorite spots around Montréal instead of going to another cocktail party.
I arrived at Ashley’s place and rang the doorbell. She opened after a few minutes, looking, as usual, glamorous in a black gown. “Hey,” I greeted her, plastering a smile as I handed her a bouquet of lilies, which she took and sniffed reflexively.
It was our little routine whenever we go out together. I’d arrive, knock on the door and give her flowers, and she’d smell them and smile and say thanks, then she’d go put them away and come back. Sometimes I wonder if I should do something spontaneous and maybe buy her chocolates or something else instead. But I know this is how Ashley liked me to greet her. A simple greeting to go with the flowers, maybe small talk and compliments, and then we’d go. Besides, she’d complain that chocolates would make her fat.
“You look great. Are you ready?” I asked, feeling a little worried as she looked critically at my outfit. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just…what are you wearing, Chuck?” I winced. “A button-down shirt and slacks,” I answered, trying not to show the ‘Duh’ tone in my voice. “Don’t worry I have a coat, I know you said Le Local wanted the dudes to wear blazers.” “Well yes, dear…” Her voice had taken on the sugary sweet tone parents sometimes use when talking to a particularly difficult child. I hate it when she does that. It usually means I did something wrong. “But you could have at least worn the Armani suit I got you for your birthday.” Aren’t I just going to have a sit-down dinner for four instead of a job interview with the Queen of England?
“I, um, forgot,” I managed to say. Ashley smiled and took my arm. “Well, don’t forget next time.” We walked toward the limousine I’d rented for the occasion. I’d drive, except for the fact that I don’t have my license yet. Ashley doesn’t know about it of course. I’d managed to either rent cars like these or get drivers or bribe my friends into driving. I don’t believe in lying when you’re in a relationship, but I’d hate to disappoint Ashley.
The ride passed by in silence. Ashley kept checking her phone and texting messages. Now that I think about it, we didn’t talk much when we’re together. Sure, she’d ask my opinion on dresses and jewelry when shopping but I mean as in having a proper conversation. Usually when we’re out with her friends she had me talk with some of her guy friends who seem more interested in talking about their cars or muscles than intelligent talk. I frowned and made a mental note to engage Ashley in some of my interests sometime. She didn’t like hockey or golf. I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the stuff I like to do with my friends. Hmm, back in high school Aline and I used to—
“We’re here,” Ashley announced. I rushed out to open the door for her. If it’s one thing my mom told me it’s to be a gentleman at all times. We headed toward the front counter while Ashley confirmed our reservations for four. She frowned when the butler shook his head. “Ms. Young and Mr. Desrosiers arrived an hour ago,” he said. “We’ve seated them and they’ve ordered.” I turned to Ashley. “You told them it’s at seven, right?” I asked. She pursed her lips. “Of course I’m sure,” she said. “I guess you did a typo. Both of them coming at the same would be too much of a coincidence,” I shrugged. “Let’s go join them.”
“But—well, they are pretty rude having sat down without waiting,” Ashley said huffily. “You can’t expect them to stand around and do nothing for another hour, Ash. They didn’t know when we would arrive,” I said reasonably. I asked the butler to seat us with them, but he looked uncomfortable. “Um, we, uh, put them in a private balcony, Monsieur. I do not know what happened, but I was instructed to give them the full package for a candlelight dinner for two.” “You’d have to tell your manager to improvise and turn this into a candlelight dinner for four then,” I said. “Now if you please, can you take us to see them?”
The butler reluctantly led us upstairs. His behavior seemed a weird to me. He stopped in front of a pair of French glass doors and looked at me questioningly, as if asking if I was sure I wanted to come in. The initial nervous feeling I had experienced when picking Ashley up suddenly returned. For some reason I felt like I wanted be sick. I took a cautious peek in and suddenly I knew why the butler seemed so hesitant in letting Ashley and I approach.
Against the picturesque backdrop of the city of Montréal, with a string quartet playing classical music in a corner, and enjoying what seemed to be a sort of brown bread…Aline and David looked like they were in their own little bubble, cut off from the rest of the real world. They were laughing and paid no attention whatsoever to the three of us observing them open-mouthed through the glass. David had leaned forward on the table and is gesturing with his hands like he is in the middle of telling a funny story. I looked at Aline watching eagerly in earnest. For some reason I feel like I want to go home, take a hot shower, curl up in bed and just stay there until the Apocalypse.
“Um Chuck?” Ashley said, looking concerned. “Are you OK?” “Yeah,” I sighed. “Are you sure? Do you want to go in and say hi to them?” she asked. “You know, what about we let them be and just eat by ourselves,” I said gruffly. “But Chuck—” “Leave it, Ash,” I said, cutting her off. “Let’s go order, I’m hungry.” If I were lucky, my appetite would be returned to me in a few thousand years.
I arrived at Ashley’s place and rang the doorbell. She opened after a few minutes, looking, as usual, glamorous in a black gown. “Hey,” I greeted her, plastering a smile as I handed her a bouquet of lilies, which she took and sniffed reflexively.
It was our little routine whenever we go out together. I’d arrive, knock on the door and give her flowers, and she’d smell them and smile and say thanks, then she’d go put them away and come back. Sometimes I wonder if I should do something spontaneous and maybe buy her chocolates or something else instead. But I know this is how Ashley liked me to greet her. A simple greeting to go with the flowers, maybe small talk and compliments, and then we’d go. Besides, she’d complain that chocolates would make her fat.
“You look great. Are you ready?” I asked, feeling a little worried as she looked critically at my outfit. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she said. “It’s just…what are you wearing, Chuck?” I winced. “A button-down shirt and slacks,” I answered, trying not to show the ‘Duh’ tone in my voice. “Don’t worry I have a coat, I know you said Le Local wanted the dudes to wear blazers.” “Well yes, dear…” Her voice had taken on the sugary sweet tone parents sometimes use when talking to a particularly difficult child. I hate it when she does that. It usually means I did something wrong. “But you could have at least worn the Armani suit I got you for your birthday.” Aren’t I just going to have a sit-down dinner for four instead of a job interview with the Queen of England?
“I, um, forgot,” I managed to say. Ashley smiled and took my arm. “Well, don’t forget next time.” We walked toward the limousine I’d rented for the occasion. I’d drive, except for the fact that I don’t have my license yet. Ashley doesn’t know about it of course. I’d managed to either rent cars like these or get drivers or bribe my friends into driving. I don’t believe in lying when you’re in a relationship, but I’d hate to disappoint Ashley.
The ride passed by in silence. Ashley kept checking her phone and texting messages. Now that I think about it, we didn’t talk much when we’re together. Sure, she’d ask my opinion on dresses and jewelry when shopping but I mean as in having a proper conversation. Usually when we’re out with her friends she had me talk with some of her guy friends who seem more interested in talking about their cars or muscles than intelligent talk. I frowned and made a mental note to engage Ashley in some of my interests sometime. She didn’t like hockey or golf. I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the stuff I like to do with my friends. Hmm, back in high school Aline and I used to—
“We’re here,” Ashley announced. I rushed out to open the door for her. If it’s one thing my mom told me it’s to be a gentleman at all times. We headed toward the front counter while Ashley confirmed our reservations for four. She frowned when the butler shook his head. “Ms. Young and Mr. Desrosiers arrived an hour ago,” he said. “We’ve seated them and they’ve ordered.” I turned to Ashley. “You told them it’s at seven, right?” I asked. She pursed her lips. “Of course I’m sure,” she said. “I guess you did a typo. Both of them coming at the same would be too much of a coincidence,” I shrugged. “Let’s go join them.”
“But—well, they are pretty rude having sat down without waiting,” Ashley said huffily. “You can’t expect them to stand around and do nothing for another hour, Ash. They didn’t know when we would arrive,” I said reasonably. I asked the butler to seat us with them, but he looked uncomfortable. “Um, we, uh, put them in a private balcony, Monsieur. I do not know what happened, but I was instructed to give them the full package for a candlelight dinner for two.” “You’d have to tell your manager to improvise and turn this into a candlelight dinner for four then,” I said. “Now if you please, can you take us to see them?”
The butler reluctantly led us upstairs. His behavior seemed a weird to me. He stopped in front of a pair of French glass doors and looked at me questioningly, as if asking if I was sure I wanted to come in. The initial nervous feeling I had experienced when picking Ashley up suddenly returned. For some reason I felt like I wanted be sick. I took a cautious peek in and suddenly I knew why the butler seemed so hesitant in letting Ashley and I approach.
Against the picturesque backdrop of the city of Montréal, with a string quartet playing classical music in a corner, and enjoying what seemed to be a sort of brown bread…Aline and David looked like they were in their own little bubble, cut off from the rest of the real world. They were laughing and paid no attention whatsoever to the three of us observing them open-mouthed through the glass. David had leaned forward on the table and is gesturing with his hands like he is in the middle of telling a funny story. I looked at Aline watching eagerly in earnest. For some reason I feel like I want to go home, take a hot shower, curl up in bed and just stay there until the Apocalypse.
“Um Chuck?” Ashley said, looking concerned. “Are you OK?” “Yeah,” I sighed. “Are you sure? Do you want to go in and say hi to them?” she asked. “You know, what about we let them be and just eat by ourselves,” I said gruffly. “But Chuck—” “Leave it, Ash,” I said, cutting her off. “Let’s go order, I’m hungry.” If I were lucky, my appetite would be returned to me in a few thousand years.