Jane looked up at Connor over the brim of her coffee cup. Steam clouded her eye glasses.
“What are you talking about,” she asked.
“Truth is what you make of it I suppose,” said Jane.
“So truth is a choice?”
“It can be. You can choose to believe something or not, so yeah, truth is a choice,” said Jane.
Connor scratched at his nose. A habit Jane was getting less fond of with every face to face meeting. It was only their fourth date and she’d kept her hopes up for something romantic from Connor, but all he kept pining for was some type of philosophical debate on every subject under the sun. Why were we here? Who was God? What type of Father did she have and did she get all the attention she needed from him? The questions were sort of fun. She felt sort of special that Connor would be so interested in these things so early on. But then she started to notice he asked everyone he met these types of questions. He got into a super long debate on their second date with some knucklehead at a near-by bar over the value of art in society and public schools.
At first she was intrigued by his passion, then bored, then a little drunk, then a little interested again. When he first asked her for her phone number she felt amazing. It was a delight to be chosen by this man, this young, sexy man. It made Jane feel something she hadn’t felt in ages. It made her feel desired. She played coy on their first date at a local arcade and he told her all about himself and his adventures and his family. She got an Indiana Jones vibe from Connor and she could hardly contain her own sizzling desires.
The waitress came to their table and asked if they were ready to order. Connor was still contemplating the menu. He was still struggling between his love of cooked meats and the perversions of animal cruelty. He was starting to think he might be a vegan, but then, he did like chicken. Jane put her menu down, ready to order.
“Can we have another minute,” asked Connor.“Sure hon, take your time,” said the Waitress and she walked away from the table.
Jane felt herself getting annoyed. Connor hadn’t even tried to kiss her, well, kiss her with any conviction. He’d given her a quick peck on the cheek when he’d met her at the door of the restaurant. It was a friendly peck with a half hug. Jane hoped for more because Connor was a very handsome man. He was really the most attractive man that she’d ever dated. He was chiseled and healthy, good hair, nice teeth, good family, no baggage. He was tall and strong and Jane felt the urge to tear at his clothing the first night they met, but she resisted after getting sucked into his deep wrought conversation about the toils of his two years living in Africa helping a village develop clean water solutions.
“So, do you know what you’re having,” asked Jane.“I was thinking about the Halibut, but I’m not sure,” said Connor.
“I’m having the chicken breast,” said Jane, hoping to encourage him to pry his eyes away from the six item menu.
“Yeah, I thought about that…,” trailed Connor.
He sucked at his bottom lip. Jane thought all his manly charms were wiped away in that moment. he looked like a scared six year old boy, terrified at the something lurking in the closet. Jane sighed sadly.
“Something wrong,” asked Connor finally looking up from the small menu.“No, no, of course not,” smiled Jane.
“Ok,” said Connor.
He returned his attention to his menu and Jane took another sip of her coffee. It was cooler now and didn’t fog her glasses. She pushed them up her nose a bit. Connor put down his menu and looked at Jane as she placed down her coffee cup.
“You know when I said that I didn’t want to succumb to the fraudulent nature of the world,” asked Connor.“I do,” said Jane.
“Well, in that vein I’d like to talk to you honestly, and I hope you choose to believe it,” said Connor.
“Okay,” said Jane.
Connor looked around the small restaurant and then back at Jane.
“I don’t think we should see each other again,” said Connor.“What?”
“I just don’t think you’re up to the level I aspire to be,” said Connor.
Jane leaned forward as if to capture the words before they got too far past her ears.
“The level you aspire to be? What the heck does mean?”“I don’t think that you and I can communicate on a truly intellectual or philosophical level. I think I want something more, deeper, in a partner,” said Connor.
Jane was about to reply but the waitress suddenly appeared at the side of the little table for two.
“Are you folks ready,” asked the Waitress.
Connor looked at Jane as if inviting her to go ahead and order first because that was the polite and chivalrous thing to do. Jane leaned back in her seat and cleared her throat.
“I guess I’m ordering first. Let’s see, I would like you to bring my companion here a large plate of clues because he clearly doesn’t have one. Also, if you could then dump that plate of clues over his head and then drop that empty plate in front of him. Thanks,” said Jane.
Jane stood up from the table, grabbed her thin spring jacket and faced waitress.
“I’ll have the chef whip that up special,” smiled the waitress and she turned with Jane from the table and walked with her toward the door.
“Jane, oh come on Jane,” called Connor after her.
“Good one,” said the Waitress.“Thanks,” said Jane.
She went outside into the cooling spring night and felt better.