“Gator, find us a table. I’ve gotta hit the head.”
We were delivering a package to the AI Lab, and I was planning on grabbing any time I could with Stephanie while we were here. We were meeting in the bar and one of the female Marine bodyguards that work with Jack was joining us as Gator’s ‘date’. They didn’t like letting Steph run around without one of them present.
Gator was going along with it to give a reason for the bodyguard to be along, but he’d insisted that I would really owe him one for this. Figured that this bodyguard would be a giant amazon type. Since Gator is ‘height impaired’, and insecure about it, he HATED going out with women who were taller than him. Which is, according to him, about 90% of the good-looking women out there.
When I came out of the head, I spotted Gator at a table in the far corner. Why there? Ah, I see! There’s a really cute young lady at another table back there, by herself. She’s tiny! JUST the type Gator goes for, too. A little bit ‘punkish’ — no black lipstick and shit, but short cropped curly black hair, tight black jeans and a leather jacket. I detoured by the bar and chatted with the bartender for a minute. At least give him a chance to get her number!
I killed as much time as I could and sure enough, when I went over and joined him, he was chatting with the girl. I heard him say, “Oh, I wish you could join us tonight! I’ve got a blind date that I just can’t dump. A favor for my friend here. Haven’t met her yet, but from what I’ve heard… Yuck!”
The girl looked puzzled. “What have you heard? Why would you go out with somebody with a bad rep?”
“Oh, it’s not a bad rep or anything. But she’s supposed to be one of these butch types — all muscles and bad-ass. Don’t know anything about her personality, just that she’s a UESF Marine and apparently a Special Forces type or something.”
The girl had one eyebrow up as far as it would go. “So you don’t like Marines, or what?”
“No, nothing against Marines. But honestly, you’re a lot more my type than any Marine I’ve ever met. And yes I’ve met female Marines, Snake, so don’t even start.”
“Hm. So if I were a Marine you’d date me?” She flicked a glance at me, but I had sat down and was just watching.
“In a heartbeat! I just have a policy about dating women who can beat me at arm wrestling.”
“Oh, you’re ON!”
“Come on, put em up!” She slid over to our table and propped up one arm.
“What? Oh, now, I’m not going to arm wrestle you! That’s ridiculous. I’m a pilot, I’ve got the military nanites. It wouldn’t even be a contest!”
“I’ll tell you what. If you beat me, I’ll take you to Elaine’s and buy you the biggest steak you can eat for our first date. If I beat you, well, since that’s so impossible, according to you, you want to give me some odds? Okay, then YOU buy the steaks, at Elaine’s, for me, your friend here, and HIS date. Which means breaking your ‘policy’.”
“You must think you have some trick or something…”
“Your friend can referee. If he sees anything that’s not perfectly up-and-up, I’ll forfeit and buy the steak.”
“Hm. But win or lose, I still get a date with you? For that, I’d buy steaks for the whole wing!”
- - - - -
Gator was still just sitting there open-mouthed when Stephanie walked up. “Hey guys! Hey Elf, I see you found them already! Where are we going?”
“Elaine’s. It’s on Gator.”