Fate Digits
by Marc Lewis
Remember me?
huh?
Last night.
Nope.
From the bar. You said I had nice dimples. You gave me your number…
Haha sorry buddy she slipped you fake digits :(
You sure you’re not a hot blonde with a tight body?
I am definitely all of those things but I was not at the bar last night.
So…where were you?
Kind of a stalkerish question don’t you think?
Just thought maybe I could change my luck. When life gives you lemons…
Break out the salt and tequila?
EXACTLY!
My kind of girl!
Easy there dimples put the shot glasses away.
What are you doing tonight?
Ending this conversation.
So cold! Why?
BF?
Husband?
Are you actually trying to pick me up?
Is it working???
Dimples you would need an industrial crane to pick me up.
Lesbian?
Haha! No I just don’t go for your type.
My type?!? We’ve never even met!
I’ve met you a million times before. Drunk frat guy. Horny bro in the bar with his hat backwards and huge biceps about to rip his tight shirt open. Grabbing any girl that walks past him on the dancefloor.
You forgot the Chinese writing tattoo on the arm.
Of course! How could I forget? The tattoo that says Serenity or Peace but the guy is trying to pick a fight with every guy that walks by.
Me in a nutshell.
I’m falling in love over here.
I was being sarcastic.
So was I!
You got me all wrong. I was there for my sister’s birthday. I don’t usually do the whole bar scene.
What scene do you do?
Kind of a stalkerish question don’t you think?
Dimples I’m all stalker. I’m outside your window right now.
Lol. Then I better answer you so you don’t kill me…I usually keep it low key. There’s a coffee shop on 6th Avenue that I usually hang out at.
Which one?
Express-O.
Shut up! I go there all the time. I love the live music. It helps me write.
You’re a writer?
Aspiring writer. Can I still call myself a writer if I don’t get paid?
You can call yourself whatever you want.
What do you call yourself?
Hero.
Magical.
Amazing.
Humble.
But mostly Connor.
Connor??? I’ll stick with Dimples.
What about you Shakespeare? What’s your name?
Rebecca. My friends call me Becca.
What do your boyfriends call you?
The one that got away.
Too long. I’ll stick with Shakespeare. I’m changing it in my phone now.
So what do you do Dimples when you’re not going through the phone book and messaging random girls for a date?
You mean besides when I’m not groping girls on the dancefloor?
Naturally.
I do a lot. I’m a dolphin trainer, firefighter, pediatrician and environmental scientist. That’s when I’m not running the orphanage for abandoned children.
If I had half the imagination you do I’d be a best-selling writer.
Come on a date with me and I’ll let you pick my brain ;)
I’m afraid of what I’d find in there…
All sunshine and rainbows Shakespeare. I promise.
So do you actually have a job or are you a professional bullshitter?
I’m a struggling artist. Like you.
Don’t feel too bad Dimples. Even Van Gogh ate out of trash cans :)
Weapon of choice?
Guitar.
Ah musician…
Guilty.
So why are you wasting all of this time with me? Aren’t there a legion of groupies waiting backstage for you?
Not playing stadiums just yet. Only coffee shops.
Wait a minute! Have you ever played at Express-O???
Every Thursday.
Are you the brown haired guy with the City and Color sticker on his guitar?
Don’t forget the dimples.
I LOVE you!
I mean…your music is great.
Did I actually capitalize love? Hehe sorry.
Would you like to be my first groupie Shakespeare?
I was there last week. You are really good! I loved your acoustic version of Monster.
You were there?!? This is so crazy!
Almost like fate…if one believed in such a ridiculous notion.
Where were you sitting?
By the window. I was alone.
The blond with the yellow notebook and the chewed up pencil?
It was only a little chewed up.
Please! The eraser was eaten and you gnawed your way down to the lead!
My weapon of choice has seen some battle wounds, I’ll admit. Sign of a frustrated writer.
You didn’t seem too frustrated on Thursday. You were writing up a storm after my set.
I was inspired.
By my music?
It touched me. It was beautiful. The words came pouring out onto the page afterwards.
Could the drunken frat boy from the bar possibly be your muse?
I’m in trouble if he is.
I think the feeling was mutual.
How so?
I was watching you scribble furiously on the page and I got inspired. I sat in the janitor’s closet in the back and wrote a song. The notes and lyrics just flowed into my head already fully formed. That’s never happened before.
Could the bitch who gave you the wrong number possibly be your muse?
We’re both in trouble if she is.
When do I get to hear this song?
When do I get to read this story?
Looks like it’s going to be a Mexican standoff.
I texted you so I’ll go first. Come to Express-O tonight. They have an open mic at eight. I’ll go up and sing you the song and then you can read me your story.
...thinking
Come on Shakespeare I have a swarm of groupies waiting for me…I don’t have all night…
Alright Dimples. 8:00.
Yes!
Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
You can quote Shakespeare? I’m impressed.
I googled it.
Save some charm for tonight Dimples. You’re going to need it.
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
8:00 Romeo. 8:00.
App