by Jeff Thomason
All names, characters, and places are fictional. Any resemblance to real people—either living or dead—or places is purely coincidental. All prominent characters and places are trademarks of Jeff Thomason. All rights reserved.
©Copyright 2010 Jeff Thomason
“You calculate expiration dates?” Cindy let the few strands of spaghetti slip from her fork. “For a living?”
“Yep,” replied Bob proudly. He stabbed a meatball and spun his fork around slowly wrapping it in a cocoon of sauce and pasta. He lifted his creation and gulped it down in one bite flicking specks of sauce on the white tablecloth and his date’s white blouse.
“That’s your entire job? You spend 40 hours a week doing just that? And someone pays you for it?” She played with her entree.
“They pay me very well. Plus full benefits AND quarterly bonuses,” he said thru a mouthful of spaghetti.
Cindy turned away. Her appetite was gone. She turned to the violinist serenading a well-dressed older couple. As they clinked crystal goblets together, she felt envy slither under her skin. She was sure all eyes focused on her and her freak show date. How did that old Sesame Street song go? One of these things is not like the others? She wondered if she would ever be able to show her face here again.