The time was 10:47 on a typical Tuesday night in downtown Des Plaines. Williamson’s, the local dive bar, had its usual crowd of people: Larry the drunk 46 year old, Craig the underage teen alcoholic, and Amy the recently widowed mother drinking away her sorrows. In the midst of the crowd, two unfamiliar faces in the back booth stuck out like a sore thumb.
One was a younger man, around 30 years old. He was known for his awkwardness and low self esteem as he would go after any women that could breathe, no matter the personality or looks. Stressed out from a long day’s work, he scanned the booth for someone to help him temporarily forget about his miseries.
The other face belonged to a very pretty lady who wore an excessive amount of makeup. She was at the bar alone enjoying the atmosphere and live band when the man decided to make a move on her.
“Hey there sugarbuns. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? You must be Jamaican because Jamaican me crazy. If I could rearrange the alphab — ”
“Alright honey, that’s enough,” she said with an agitated smile. “I’ll make things a little bit easier. I’m not a woman that wants to sit and play games. Don’t act like I don’t see right through you. All you young loners at the bar are all on the prowl- I’m not trying to be one of your pawns in this little game you like to play. Goodluck and goodnight!” Dianne was completely serious. Although this guy didn’t look as shady as most of the other men she had met at Williamson’s, she was not about to test her luck on this stranger. He shouldn’t have even bothered trying. She hastily picked up her alligator purse and stormed out.
“Wait! Wait!” the man called after her. “Forget everything I said. Sorry, it’s just- well- I get really nervous whenever I’m around such a beautiful woman like yourself. Whenever I get near someone like you, all of a sudden, I become this creepy dude with horrible pickup lines. If you’ll just give me a second chance, I’d love to start over.”
“I’ll give you five minutes,” the woman retorted.
“Perfect. Okay, well let’s start with the basics. I’m Oliver. And you might be?”
“Dianne- the name’s Dianne. You live ‘round here?” Dianne questioned.
“Yes… Well, not exactly. See, I was born and raised in the house kiddie corner from Williamson’s, but for the last ten years I’ve lived alone forty minutes away in Kenosha. How ‘bout yourself? You don’t really seem like the ‘Des Plaines type’,” Oliver curiously asked.
“I’m from down south in a little town in coastal South Carolina. I’m staying for a couple of weeks in Chicago with some relatives of mine. Figured I’d stop in for a drink on the way up- I mean it’s never a bad time for a brewski.”
As the conversation smoothly rolled on, Oilver and Dianne became more and more comfortable around each other. After an hour and a half of sharing each other’s life stories, Oliver decided that he had heard enough. He wanted more than a one night stand with this special woman; he wanted to be in a relationship with her.
“Olivia, I’ll be honest. You are the sweetest gal I’ve ever met. I’ve never been able to connect to someone as easily as you. Do you feel this chemistry I’m talkin about?”
“Oh yes, yes I do. I feel like I’ve been looking for “the guy” since ‘Nam, and now, without even hesitating, I know. “the guy” is right in front of me. This feels special,” Dianne replied.
“Well, where do we go from here? You’re all the way from South Carolina. I’ve only heard bad things about long distance relationships. Would you ever consider moving to Chicago?” Oliver proposed.
“Of course, but most of my family is in Carolina and I can’t leave ‘em. My daughter is getting married next month and my son just bought a new home for his wife and three kids. My grandki — ”
*Oliver softly slaps Dianne on the cheek*
“Dianne! Wake up! We’ve got to get you to your relatives’. You’re not thinking straight, you’ve had too much to drink!”
Dianne shakes off the light blow and continues, “My grandkids need their grandma in their life! Sorry Oliver, this just won’t work out.”
Oliver, still convinced Dianne is wasted, splashes some water onto her face. Dianne’s makeup was not prepared to endure the mini shower, and as a result began to streak down her face. Slowly but surely, like a snake shedding its skin, Dianne shedded her fake appearance to reveal her true self. Wrinkles on wrinkles and flabby skin on flabby skin began to appear.
Flabbergasted, Oliver uttered,” H-H-How old are you???”
Admitting defeat, Dianne joked, “84. I clean up well though, dontcha think?”
Without wasting another second, Oliver sprinted out of the bar to his car, sped home, and jumped into bed knowing he was scarred for the rest of his life.
