Eight minutes

"Are you James?" Jody tentatively asked of the seemingly middle-aged-paunched man nursing a beer at the outdoor plastic table. His mirrored sunglasses reflected the Coors Light label as he looked up.

"I am! Jody?" He stood with open arms. She extended her hand as she noticed his gray tooth prominently displayed in the front of his mouth. It appeared to be the same color as his thinning hair.

"Correct...I'm Jody," she said desperately racking her brain for a positive. The outdoor cafe was lively with twenty somethings shamelessly flirting with each other, enjoying the Friday happy hour scene while the Atlanta Rhythm Section oozed bluesy hits in the background. She hoped no one saw her reject his proprietary arm as it reached up and tried to drape itself around her shoulders. Were those cowboy boots he was wearing in this July heat?

"Alright. You hungry? I'm starved," he said taking another swig of his beer. "You sure are pretty. Classy lookin' too. Humph. I like that," he grunted. She had never witnessed anyone so happily drink a Coors Light in New York when there were so many other great beers to choose from.

"Maybe a bit. So what did you say you do? You'll have to forgive me, but I can't remember." She ordered an Allagash White from the waiter.

"You don't remember cause I didn't say!" He slammed his hand on the table laughing at the joke only he seemed to get.

"Well that would be why I don't remember..." she said as she snuck a peak at her watch. Only eight minutes had passed - too early to bail.

"Sorry, I don't know why that's so funny, but it just is," he said pleased with himself.

"Hm."

"Brooklyn's finest, baby. You are looking at the best trash collector this side of Bed-Stuy." He took a healthy swig of his beer and Jody only hoped her face didn't convey the horror she was feeling on the inside. Maybe eight minutes was sufficient.

"That's great, James. Really, it is. Everybody has trash that needs picked up. You'll never be out of a job," she said and she strained her neck in the direction of the waiter. When she caught his eye she held up two fingers and made a drinking motion with her hand. Certainly she would need two drinks immediately to get her through the first fifteen minutes.

"Where is that damn waiter. I'm fucking hungry." He lifted his sunglasses as he searched for the waiter to reveal eyes so shockingly white against his sunburned skin. The veins that pulsed on the sides of his head reminded Jody of tomato stems. "Yo! You comin' back or what?" he yelled across the room to the waiter as he waited for the bartender to give him Jody's second Allagash White. The man had already had five Coors Lights before the girl arrived and had been belligerent from the moment he sat down. He felt so bad for Jody that he asked the bartender to give him a shot of tequila as well. He knew she would need it.

"James, I'm sure he'll be right over. There's no need to yell."

"You said you was hungry didn't you? Ain't this a date? I'm just trying to feed you. What's wrong wid dat?" He searched her eyes for an answer. "Never mind. I shoulda known not to email you. Fucking online dating. You're stuck up like the rest of 'em." He put his glasses back on and concentrated on the menu.

"James. Please don't speak to me like this. I was just saying - "

"I know what you were just sayin'. You were sayin' that I'm not good enough for you. That's what you were sayin'. This is bullshit," he mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me? First of all, if you would have put a photo of yourself like you actually look now, then, no, we wouldn't be sitting here at all. You look about 30 in your photo but you are clearly not. And don't even get me started on your teeth in the picture. They are actually white, not some cloudy gray color like they look now." The waiter arrived with the drinks and Jody surprised herself by slamming the tequila and taking a healthy drink from her beer. She was so happy she'd ordered two.

"Like you would have gone out with me if I put up a recent photo."

"Well you can't go around misrepresenting yourself and not expect for people not to be shocked. I mean, your photo looks nothing like you! Your hair is blond in it for heaven's sake! And I'm taller than you and I'm only 5'8! I guess lying and saying you were 5'11 is okay with you," she said suppressing a laugh. "And did you have a ghost writer write your emails and profile? Because you actually came off half-way decent there."

"Oh, I suppose you wrote all that shit about liking fucking New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs, reading Tom Wolfe - whoever the fuck that asshole is - and sailing and shit yourself? Gimmie a break."

"Yes, I did!"

"Yeah, right. Well 'scuse me, Miss Fancy Pants, but you wasted your time because the dating site wrote mine."

"You're kidding."

"Are you deaf? I see you're not too smart to be so pretty. Alls you hafta do is tell 'em to write some bullshit story and for $15.99, ladeeda, they do it. So it looks like the joke is on you, Jody, if that's even your real name," he said as he started to drink from her second Allagash before spitting it out. "You call this shit beer? Tastes like piss."

"Oh my God."

"Oh my God," he mocked her, throwing his hands up for emphasis. "Just cause you look like your stupid picture doesn't mean mine is bad. So it was taken a long time ago! Big deal. I'm the same person, but you're too stuck on yourself to get to know me. What's your fucking problem anyway?"

"Right now you are my problem. But not anymore." Calmly and quickly, Jody stood from the table, drank the rest of her beer in one long swallow, placed the empty bottle on the table, and left.

"Were you goin'? You forgot to drink the rest of your fancy fucking Allyhoo beer! I sure as hell don't want it!" he stood yelling as she left. She didn't look back as she climbed the stairs onto the streets and into a cab, laughing as she did so.