Lucy

Another attempt at adding more creativity to my life. A very rough (and short?) draft.

One week before the date, while they were standing in a store devoted primarily to beauty products, Lucy’s friend Cecilia cajoled her into going out with a guy named Lloyd.

“Lloyd, like the guy in Say Anything. You’ll like him,” Cecilia said.

“Maybe,” Lucy said. “But I’m perfectly happy on my own. As in not dating. At all.”

“No offense, but I’ve always thought that was a little weird,” Anna said, as she sniffed a perfume sample.  As a friend she belonged more to Cecilia than to Lucy.

Three days before the date, Lucy went shopping for a new outfit, urged on by Cecilia.  She spent the three days before the date with itching and peeling skin from a sunburn acquired during this shopping trip.

The morning of the date Lucy woke up with a feeling of dread. She took out the dog, slipped into the new dress, slapped on some makeup, and sighed. She sang loudly and off key as she drove to the date.

Lucy met Lloyd at the farmer’s market.  He carried a blanket and a picnic basket.

“Hello,” she said.

They threaded their way through stalls selling honey, homemade bread, dog treats, and vegetables. They inched around screaming children, people carrying cloth bags stuffed full of organic produce, and dogs barking incomprehensible poetry at each other. Lucy wished that she could be talking with the dogs instead.

“So, it’s Lucy, right?” said Lloyd.

“Yep,” Lucy replied.

“Ok, let’s find some food to bring to the park,” Lloyd said.

Lucy chose a smoothie, Lloyd purchased a sandwich and some fruit, and on their way out they grabbed some popcorn. They then headed across to the park where the outdoor concert was already starting.

“It’s jazz,” Lloyd said. “Do you like jazz?”

“I’ve heard some,” Lucy said. “I honestly don’t know much about it. It’ll be fine, though.”

Lloyd spread the blanket out on the grass and they both sat down. He opened up the picnic basket, removing his sandwich, the popcorn, the fruit, juice, and glasses.

“You don’t say a lot, do you?” he asked.

“I guess not,” Lucy said, while thinking to herself, “Say what?”

The sun shone, the crowd chatted, and the saxophone wailed.

“Why is it that a saxophone wails?” Lucy asked. “Does that sound like wailing to you?”

“I guess so,” Lloyd replied.

“Well, I like it.”

After the band finished, they packed the picnic basket back up and found a recycling bin for the plastic juice bottle.

“Ice cream?” Lloyd asked. “There’s a place across the street.”

There were several places across the street. They browsed the folk art store, scrutinizing polka dot dachshunds. They wandered through the fair trade store and the store filled with ecologically friendly products, pausing at the purses made with recycled seatbelts. They passed by the store displaying presumably overpriced turquoise jewelry.

Lucy’s skin itched.

They entered the ice cream shop.

“Chocolate,” Lucy told the pink haired woman behind the counter.

“Just chocolate?” Lloyd asked. “There’s a ton of flavors here.”

Lucy chose not to point out that a ton contained 2000 pounds, and therefore it was not likely that there actually was a ton of ice cream flavors in the shop.

“Chocolate,” she repeated. “With cookies, chocolate sprinkles, and peanut butter pieces mixed in.”

“Wow,” Lloyd said, “that’s quite a selection of toppings you added.”

“I like it,” Lucy said.

Toward the bottom of her bowl of ice cream, Lucy started dreading the end of the date and the potential for an awkward goodbye moment.  

Lloyd lightly kissed her cheek and said, “I’ll call you.”

Lucy heaved a sigh of relief and climbed into her car.

A few blocks later, she realized he didn’t have her number. She laughed out loud, and the sound flew out her window and rose like a balloon. She sang loudly and off key as she drove home.

Lucy climbed the stairs to her apartment, slouched on the couch, petted the dog beside her, and picked up her knitting.
 

Her skin stopped itching.