The Slow Lane: A Short Story From Meet Cute
way I was. I thought you intended to lead me here.”
“Oh, well, I’m just on my way home from work so… nice meeting you.” I moved quickly back to the side of my car, aware of how incredibly lame that sounded and more aware of my desire to get away.
“But we didn’t meet yet,” he said. “I’m Shawn and you are?”
I stopped and sighed, then turned to face him, but kept my hand on the car door handle. “I’m Mia.”
“Mia. I can see you’re in a hurry, but maybe I could get your number so we can talk more later.”
“I… don’t really think that’s a good idea.”
“We were having fun in traffic back there.” He jerked his head the direction of that last turn.
I smiled weakly. The part before I had to talk had been fun.
“Enough fun that you wanted to follow me this way.”
“I didn’t…” I wasn’t sure it would be better to explain how I had almost missed my turn because of him. “I’m just not sure I’m comfortable with giving out my number.”
“Will you take my number so you can think about it?”
“Um…” I didn’t know how to answer because I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be thinking about.
“Here.” He stepped toward me and held out his hand. “Let me put my number in your phone and then you’ll be able to text me yours if you decide we should talk more.”
That seemed like the fastest way back into my car. I pulled my phone out and handed it to Shawn. The look on his face said that he was doing me a favor as he typed into my phone. He handed it back and winked as he turned around. I sat in my car and waited for him to leave first. Now there would be no chance of anyone following anyone. Instead of a last name, he had typed Shawn (call me).
I went home and had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner. It was easy and familiar, my favorite type of boring.
Kim was the one I talked to most at work. I told her in the morning that I had met a guy but that she’d have to wait until lunch for details. Her eyes got wide for a moment and then she tried to put a serious face over the paperwork on her desk. She didn’t ask questions, but flashed knowing smiles at me throughout the morning.
Ryan came back with my lunch just before noon. I packed my lunch the other four days. Ryan picked something up every day and somehow he started grabbing my weekly splurge for me.
“Get it while it’s hot, Mia,” he called on his way back to the break room. I put down my pen and followed him. The break room was also a conference room, in theory. I had never seen it used as such, but there was a whiteboard next to the microwave and a shiny wood table under the cheesy checkered tablecloth.
Ryan had already laid out my share of the food across from his so I sat facing him. Kim blew in right behind me. She pulled a bag out of the fridge, sat down in something of a huff and said, “Now spill it.”
Ryan protectively picked up both of our drinks as though they might be in harm’s way. Kim rolled her eyes at him and he put them back down. She focused her attention back on me. “Start at the beginning. Where’d you meet him?”
Another employee, Michelle, had come in before I could answer. “Wait for me,” she said as she grabbed a clear sandwich box from the fridge. She took the seat next to Ryan and made a show of getting comfortable. “Okay, so you were saying?” Michelle prompted me with raised eyebrows.
“I wasn’t really saying anything yet.”
“Where’d you meet him?” Kim said again.
“On my way home yesterday.” I took a bite of my chicken wrap while Kim’s imagination revved up.
“Oh, no! You ran into each other? That’s so embarrassing! Wait, at least tell me it was his fault.”
My mouth was still full so I shook my head.
“Oh. You hit him!? You must have been mortified. Was he cute? Tell me he was cute.”
I was kind of enjoying the spotlight and didn’t see the need to rush through my story. Besides, the version in Kim’s head sounded more entertaining than reality. I looked at Ryan instead. “This is cold, by the way.”
Ryan grinned at me and his dimples popped out. Or in. I guess dimples pop in. But Kim said, “So what! Who cares about your lunch? Tell us what happened.”
Michelle didn’t say anything. She simply kept me the focal point of her eager gaze.
“Okay,” I said. “There was no accident.”
“Well, how did you meet him on the way home then? Where else did you go? I’ve heard you can meet guys over groceries. Did you stop at the store?”
“Just let her talk,” Ryan interjected.
Kim pretended to zip her lips and lock them with an imaginary key, which she dropped onto the table.
“I better hold on to that,” Ryan said as he made a grab for the non-existent key. Kim glared at him as he pretended to stuff it in his pocket. It made me laugh though.
“Here’s what happened,” I said. “You know I was late getting out of here so High House was a parking lot…” I got three understanding nods and then continued. “I was in the left lane and a guy in the right lane caught me looking at him.”
“He was that cute, huh?” Kim asked. “What did he look like? Details!”
Ryan pulled the imaginary key out of his pocket and pretended to examine it. “This thing is broken.”
Kim sighed loudly. “I wouldn’t have to keep interrupting if she’d tell the story right in the first place.” She looked at me. “Just describe him already.”
“All right, yeah, he was not a bad looking guy. 20s I think… light brown hair, nice smile…”
“What color were his eyes?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I shook my head. Michelle also looked a bit surprised that I was missing that detail. Ryan seemed more interested in his French fries.
“I couldn’t see his eyes. He was, like, ten feet away in his car.”
“Okay, so he caught you checking him out…” Kim waved her hand for me to keep talking.
“Looking. He caught me looking in his direction.”
“Same thing.”
“Not really. I actually noticed him because he was playing with something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Kim shook her head in exasperation. “What kind of story is this?”
“One that would go a lot faster if you weren’t here,” Ryan observed. He bit his lip as though perhaps that came out harsher than he intended.
Kim didn’t seem to notice. “So he was playing with something and you don’t know what it was. Was he driving, too?”
I nodded. “Yes. He had this thing, something pink and sort of spikey and springy, and he had it on the steering wheel and was springing the tentacles in rhythm. I was trying to figure out what the toy was when he looked over at me. Anyway, we kept passing each other in traffic for a while and there may have been some flirting.” I stopped for a moment to take a drink. I thought it might cool off my cheeks.
Kim said, “Then what happened?”
“Well, that’s the part that’s sort of confusing. I wasn’t paying attention and I suddenly realized that I needed to get in the right lane to make my turn. But the guy, his name turned out to be Shawn, had just put on his turn signal and…”
Kim interrupted again, “Shawn! How did you find out his name? You had to have stopped at some point. When did you talk to him?”
“I’m getting to that part. So Shawn thought I wanted to turn because he had his signal on and he let me in front of him because he thought I was trying to follow him. That’s when he got me to pull over.”
“How?!” Kim wanted to know.
“Wait!” Now it was Ryan’s turn to interrupt. “You stopped to talk to a complete stranger? You don’t think that was a little dangerous?”
Kim looked at Ryan before turning back to me. “Relax, Mom, she??
?s obviously okay. How did you know he wanted you to pull over?”
“Well, he left his signal flashing and I realized he was giving me a hint. So I stopped in a well lit and busy parking lot,” that part was directed at Ryan who seemed only a little less bothered by my judgment, “and he parked his car nearby. And then we talked only for a minute. He asked for my number, but I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. He put his number in my phone so I could think about it.”
“Have you thought about it?” Michelle asked.
“I don’t think I’m going to call him.”
Ryan said, “Good,” at the same time that Kim asked me why not. She turned on him.
“What do you mean ‘good?’ Why shouldn’t she call him?”
“She doesn’t know anything about him. He could be…”
“What? A serial killer?” Kim’s tone indicated her derision at the possibility.
“Look,” I said. “He just didn’t… he seemed kind of arrogant and I don’t think he’s my type.”
“Hang on…” Kim looked suddenly confused. “You stopped to talk to him and you still don’t know what color his eyes were? I don’t think you were ten feet away in the parking lot.”
“Probably not,” I conceded. “I suppose I just don’t notice eyes.”
Kim shook her head. “Well, did he tell you his last name? We should find out more about him before we make any decisions.”
“I think she’s made her decision,” Michelle said. “But it might still be fun to look him up.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, guys. I don’t know his last name.”
“Let me see your phone,” Kim insisted.
I handed it over but asked, “Why?”
“We can try one of those reverse phone number look