Lifted Off

The blogger entered the quiet restaurant, situated at the far corner of the mall. Fewer customers frequented the Japanese-Korean specialty outlet due to its higher pricing. However, repeat patrons came often because of the authentic dishes and excellent preparations.

The Czech, as he was known to his internet buddies, did not come the former Czechoslovakia nor his heritage of Slavic origins. His face resembled Vaclav Havel so the nickname stuck, thanks to a former classmate who had fled to the mountains to join the leftist rebels.

Alone, as was his customary preference when dining out, he replaced his netbook on the seat beside him, along with his small backpack containing change of clothes and assorted personal hygiene accessories. In the land of unusual climate, one should be ready at all times to adapt.

He was ready to order when his cellular phone came to life. At vibration mode, it hummed and moved to the side like a startled electronic bug.

“Talk to me,” he said, using his quirky signature like a unique brand. He was renowned to all his acquaintances by his strange lingo . “If it’s not important, just use text messaging.”

“If I am not important, let’s call it quits,” her lovely voice had a tinge of disappointment attached to her reply. “Can you not be impersonal on the phone?”

“This is a recording, please wait,” he tried to copy the familiar generic message that could be found on all units. His fault for not looking first for the caller’s number became his undoing.

“Don’t give me that,” she was angry. “That won’t work this time.”

“Oh, hey, honey,” he wished the distraction was not overdone. “I made a mistake of placing all incoming calls to the voice call inbox.”

She did not react but her breathing could be heard during the lull. Perhaps, she wanted him to sweat a lot more before accepting his shallow excuses.

“Are you still there?” he asked, a bit nervous that she would give him a dressing down on the phone. She was infamous for doing so when provoked unnecessarily like now. “I am sorry. I forgot about our date.”

“Are you alone?” her suspicious query nerved him. She could be hiding somewhere near while checking if he told the truth. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Honey, I am. Right now, I am sitting with my lonesome. You can join me. I can wait for you.”

“I am going out with my friends.” It was uttered not to ask for his permission.

“Where?”

“Since you forgot our date, I am entitled to go somewhere without telling you. I am telling you now.”

“Can I come?” he asked, uneasy to lose her to someone else. He knew of two guys who had been trying to win her even though she already had him as boyfriend. “I’ll be out of here in a flash.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied, her tone sounded cold.

“Where will you be heading?”

“A very good question,” she said, then adding, “guess.”

Before he could ask for additional information, the line was cut.

(to be continued …)

BLOGGING   LIFE/STYLES   MY STORIES   WHISPER   ZONE

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