Dating Advice Between the Stacks

Posted: November 24, 2013 by writingsprint in Drama
Tags: , , , , , ,

Dave and Lizzie lay on the floor at the library between stacks of old poetry books. They’d met in a poetry class back in college, and for some reason became good friends. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and Dave had happened to be passing through town. Lizzie worked at the library, so the other librarians didn’t mind the mess as long as they didn’t get in anyone’s way.

“Whatever happened with you and that pharmacist guy?” Dave asked.

“Still dating him.”

“Really! Good stuff. That makes it, what, three years?”

“Um-hmm. We’re talking about getting married.” Dave high-fived with her. “Maybe a destination wedding in Vermont, or the Caribbean.”

“You guys like to travel?”

“That way the in-laws stop arguing over where the wedding is.”

“Clever.”

She tapped her temple. “Always thinkin’.” Lizzie put down a book of eighteenth-century verse. “How about you? Didn’t you meet somebody while you were on vacation?”

“It was a Halloween party. Speech therapist in a flapper dress. She liked that I could swing dance with her. I met someone else while I was on vacation in New Orleans before I met her. She lived too far away, though.”

“Do you like her?”

“Let’s say she’s teaching me lots of new oral motor skills.”

Lizzie blushed. She kicked him. “Dirty. So the sex is good. Do you like her or not?”

“I like her.”

“But…”

“Remember the time you told me about your pharmacist, how the two of you finish each other’s sentences?”

Lizzie nodded. “You’re not soulmates.”

“Is that what it is?”

“It sounds like it. At least not yet.”

Dave closed a book on Lord Byron. The guy’s poetry was thick with love and romance, which Dave didn’t get at all. At least not that much. “So do I fish or cut bait?”

“That, young Jedi, depends on you. Is she a keeper or not? Or are you ready, or not?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Remember in college, when I was in love with that history major, but I just wasn’t ready for a commitment? He was a keeper, but I wasn’t ready.”

“Oh… got it.” Dave looked at Byron’s picture on the cover of the book. Maybe the good Lord B. could teach him a thing or two about romancing his jazzy dancer. “I’ll keep fishing.”

“Good for you. And stop talking dirty about her.”

“Hey, you went there, not me.”

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