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Blind Date (1st revision)

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Old 12-23-2017, 08:41 AM
Cityboy (Offline)
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Default Blind Date (1st revision)

Blind Date

"Itís a beat-up, blue van." Marty said, "It'll be parked near the restaurant. You canít miss it." Those were the last words Marty said to Lola before hanging up the telephone last night. The twenty-four-year old electrician planned to dine at an Italian restaurant with her, but now as he waited behind the wheel of his parked van, he wondered if she would ever show up. He glanced at his wristwatch, which showed five-thirty; she was already a half-hour late. Becoming impatient, Marty gazed through the windshield. trying to spot any woman walking who might fit her description. And he didn't have much to go on. All he knew was that Lola had blonde hair. As his eyes scanned every approaching woman, Marty began to lose hope she'd arrive: "Iíll give her ten more minutes," he thought, staring down the street.

The restaurant where they planned to dine was across the street from his parked van. Occassionally, Marty would glance at its entrance to notice the many couples entering the popular eatery. It was located on Forty-Fifth Street in the center of the city's theater district, an area bustling with energy. People were everywhere: some flagged taxis, some raced for the corner subway station, while others scurried toward the many theaters dotting both sides of the street. For the past forty-five minutes while waiting for his blind date, Marty entertained himself watching the excitement playing out on the sidewalk. But now, as the realization that Lola had stood him up began to sink in, a disappointed Marty was ready to abandon the mad scene outside his van. He decided to return home.

Wondering what could have happened to Lola, Marty inserted the key into the ignition to start his van. While he listened to the engine roar to life, he reached inside his shirt pocket for the joint which he intended to smoke with her before they dined. Lighting the joint, he then shifted gears from park to drive to prepare for the trip home. But, before he stepped on the gas pedal, he peered through the passenger window to notice a blonde smiling at him. Surprised Lola had shown up, Marty shut the engine and reached for the door's handle to let her in. Quickly, she slid into the seat as a thrilled Marty greeted her before extending his arm to offer her a toke on the joint in his hand. She removed it from his fingertips, and while Marty watched her place the joint between her lips, he said laughing: "You arrived just in time."

As Marty watched her smoke, he couldn't avoid an odor coming from his date. It was the smell of cheap perfume making him almost cough, and the scent was so overwhelming that he had to roll down his window to let fresh air inside the van. Marty then turned his attention to his date again, eyeballing her long slender legs. Her tight red dress was well above her knees, and Marty certainly enjoyed what he was looking at. Lola handed him the joint, signalling she had had enough, and after he put out the joint in the ashtray, he reached for his door handle to step outside so they could have dinner. But, just as his door opened, she said something which stopped him in his tracks. "Huh," Marty blurted, still gripping the door's handle, "what did you ask me?"
"What do you want to do?" she repeated, leaning across the seat to wrap her arm across his shoulders.

"Oh, shit," Marty groaned, realizing his mistake.
"Well?" the blonde demanded.
"Honey," Marty said, removing her arm off his shoulders. " I donít want to do anything. I got you mixed up with someone else."

The prostituteís smile vanished as she hopped from the van as quickly as she entered. After she slammed the door and disappeared on the crowded street, Marty glanced into the rear view mirror. "Man," he laughed at himself, "am I rusty. I canít even tell a hooker anymore." Once again, Marty turned the key to start the engine. And as his hand clutched the stick to switch gears from park to drive, he heard a light knocking on the passenger door. Turning to see who was tapping on the door, he noticed, for the second time in less than ten minutes, another blond smiling through the window. Marty cautiously returned the smile before reaching for the door to let the blonde inside the van. As she made herself comfortable in the seat, Marty extended his hand to greet her: "Hi, I'm Marty; and, hopefully, . . . you are Lola."

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fleamailman (12-23-2017)
Old 12-23-2017, 11:10 AM
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This is pretty good. I like the story. I think if this is a first revision you could work on filtering a little. Itís pretty much ďtellingĒ instead of showing. Filtering the action through the MC rather than letting it happen.

Example: wondering what could have happened to Lola, Marty inserted the key into the ignition to start his van>>> Marty started his van. Heíd been sure she was into it on the phone earlier. (Or Something like that. Donít let the narrator tell the reader anything. Show them by not filtering the action).

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Old 12-23-2017, 01:20 PM
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well I liked it. Its he sort of thing that could happen every day in NYC and only the principles would notice. I embrace Marty because it could happen to any of us.
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