‘Dude, don’t talk to me about Bigfoot. Okay? Bigfoot wears yoga pants.’
He took a long pull at his straw, slurping deliberately, even viciously, at the dregs of a milkshake, before using both hands to reposition his specs.
‘Don’t test me on this, dude.’

This was the guy Jenna set me up with? I was going to murder her, swear to god.
He started to go on about how yoga pants were impractical for women, let alone Bigfoot. I could feel my brain seizing up. I couldn’t be bothered to listen any more, but I didn’t want to up and leave, so I just kind of took my mind off the hook.
My gaze wandered around the restaurant. Fat old Boomers arguing with wait staff. Wait staff looking either bored, or harried, or one step from a full-on breakdown. Bad, mass-produced “art” hanging so densely that I couldn’t even tell what color the walls had been painted. Okay, my brain wasn’t so frozen that I couldn’t recognize that as a total exaggeration, but still…what makes franchise owners think they need so much “art?” I mean, what the hell must their houses look like?
My train of thought was derailed as the guy knocked his fork to the floor. How did he get it to bounce and ring like that? Some kind of idiot savant? Idiot, anyway. Seriously, Jenna would pay.
He was still going on about Bigfoot, who was now a government agent or something. Totally safe to tune out again.
Rain outside. Again, for a change. I needed to remember my umbrella. Some beardy guy at another table obviously listening to the woman sitting across from him, nodding at her, but just as obviously listening in on the guy and his rant about…what was it now?
Oh.
‘Bigfoot was an early government experiment in cloning gone wrong, escaped into the wild and gone totally feral.’ The guy couldn’t stop talking.
There is little in the world that I hate more than people who talk with their mouth full, and the guy was giving me a hell of a show.
The burger was tasty, but I had completely lost my appetite.
I could tell that beard-o had stopped listening to his partner and was totally engrossed in the guy’s crazy. The woman turned a little in her seat to get a look at us, saw me looking back, and turned away again.
So much for female solidarity.
‘Seriously, dude. Just do the research. It’s all there in black and white.’
If the guy said “Dude” one more time….
‘Dude. Are you even listening?’

I stared at him for a beat. I didn’t owe this guy anything.

‘Nope.’
I stood up from the table and walked away.
Beard-o was suppressing a smile, gave me a sneaky thumbs-up.
From behind me: ‘Dude!’
And fucking Jenna…. Dead.