Ava’s phone buzzed.

Her Lyft driver was outside. Not Uber. Her account was banned on Halloween because of a guy she hasn’t spoken to since he left her apartment the next morning.

She glanced at her roommate’s Smirnoff bottle on the bar trolley, shrugged, and took a large pull.

Thought for a moment.

Took her nearly empty water bottle and added what she would guess to be 2 shots to it.

Much needed and the Lyft drivers never said anything. She pretended they didn’t know.

She slipped into the car with nothing more than a confirmation of his license plate and name.

She checked her phone. 10 minutes late.

She opened the text thread with Mr. X. The mystery man her coworker had set her up with.

Her first blind date.

“so sorry running 10 min late. missed my train.”

“No worries! See you soon.”

Boring texter.

Ava didn’t respond. She opened Libby and continued re-reading Northanger Abbey, sipping her water and vodka.

“This okay?”

The driver startled Ava out of her head.

She briefly looked around, not recognizing anything, but nodded and slipped out of the car.

She looked at her phone. Right side. Corner booth. He ordered her a drink.

She walked in that direction and noticed two corner booths, two men.

One was exactly her type. Covered in tattoos, a simple black shirt and leather jacket, slicked back hair like James Dean or Marlon Brando. He had what looked like a whiskey and coke in front of him and a book in his hand. Maybe The Bloody Chamber.

The other was wearing a similar outfit and covered in tattoos as well, but extremely buff with a buzz cut. His phone was lighting up his face.

He had two drinks in front of him.

So, this was the mystery man.

She slid into the booth, “Hi, I’m SO sorry I’m late.”

He looked up. He had the most beautiful blue eyes.

His mouth twisted into a sort of half smile.

“No prob. I got you a tequila soda, I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Perfect,” she lied. She hated tequila. Tequila makes you take your clothes off.

She resisted looking back towards her dream man. Instead, she took a sip of her drink, eying X’s drink level.

“I better catch up.” She joked.

“So, how was your day?”

“Nothing eventful. Had the day off. Spent most of it reading. Yours?”

He started a lengthy recap of his day. He worked in the film industry, in lighting. It was hard for white men to get jobs right now. All the diversity hiring.

Ava nodded along, kind of tuning out. She looked at his arms, trying to make out the tattoos.

Some of them were faded, like he was working on getting them removed.

“Regretting some tattoos?” She interrupted his rant.

He shrugged. “I was stupid in college.”

“Wasn’t everyone?” She laughed.

“This California flag is the worst. And it’s taking so many sessions to get off.”

“Why don’t you get a coverup?”

“Trying to get my skin cleaner again.”

“Oh.”

Her drink was empty. She stood up. “I’ll get us round two. Dealers choice.”

She ordered herself a double while she got two whiskey cokes. He couldn’t see. She needed it if he was going to be that type of guy.

She started walking back to him, two drinks in hand. The bartender also gave her two shots for the table.

Blue eyes looked up at her with an intense stare.

That’s when it hit her.

Lark.

Socialist, Bernie Sanders supporting, read Naked Lunch to her in bed, had a cat named Cormac McCarthy, Larkin McConnell.

The drinks shattered on the floor.