Dunkin Date

They met on line through neverbedumped, one of the popular dating Web sites. After about two weeks emailing each other, they finally agreed they should meet. Following the guidelines set forth by the Web site, they decided to meet in a public place.

When Quentin called Jackie on Tuesday night, it was the first time she actually heard his voice. Naturally, they had swapped photos and both liked what they saw. He was not quite movie star handsome, but good looking, with a full head of coal black hair. She had a sweet Mediterranean face, olive complexion, enhanced by a demure smile.

Jackie suggested Tupelo Honey, a trending restaurant with a nice bar in nearby Franklin. She suggested meeting Thursday night at six for a cocktail.

“That’s the place set back from Carothers Parkway, right?” Quentin asked.

“Yes, you’ve been there? Their food is scrumptious.”

“I have another idea,” he said. “Right down the road from Tupelo. How about Dunkin Donuts Thursday morning at seven?”

Jackie hesitated. Had she misread every signal this man had sent in his emails? He was a professional; a successful endodontist. Was he also cheap? Socially awkward? She was suddenly doubtful, but curious now. “I suppose I could do that. Why so early in the morning if I may ask?”

“Jackie. I realize social convention kind of dictates meeting for a drink in the early evening. But I’ve never had any luck doing it that way. Last time I was stood up. The time before that I wound up with a bar bill worth two root canals.”

“If money is a concern, I am prepared to pay for my own drinks.” Her tone had dropped a full octave.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “You can have as many donuts and as much coffee as you want. My treat.”

Jackie laughed. She felt she was catching on. “You’re teasing me!”

“I am. One donut and a small coffee is all I’m going to spring for.”

She laughed again. “So Tupelo Honey at six, then?”

“I know I’m going to regret this, but okay. Let’s meet at seven though. Less chance I’ll have to buy you dinner.”

By Thursday afternoon, Jackie was more nervous than excited. Her friend Camille told her, “This guy sounds weird. Be careful.” For him to joke like that without having actually met Jackie seemed odd to Camille. “Dress up girl. I mean heels and pearls. Make it hard for him to suggest Arby’s for dinner.”

Jackie opted for a nice fall outfit, one she bought for work but hadn’t worn yet and low heels. She wasn’t sure how tall Quentin was. At 5’4” she hoped he wasn’t too tall. She left work later than planned because her boss called a meeting. When she tried to beg off, he insisted she come. By the time she left the office, she was running late. She was a careful driver, but she did some weaving between lanes. She was making good time. She might get there by seven after all.

Then, as she was cruising down Carothers Parkway, out of the corner of her eye she spotted the Dunkin Donuts Quentin joked about. Momentarily distracted, she rear-ended, of all things, a Hummer. The Hummer wasn’t even scratched, but her Fiat’s nose was broken in two places. She willed herself not to cry. Still, she was upset, dealing with the patrolman and the driver, who was annoyed by the delay she caused. He accused her of texting while driving, something she never did.  

At 8:20, her car finally towed to the dealership, it finally dawned on her that Quentin probably thought he had been stood up again.  

Since she was less than a half-mile from the restaurant, she walked there. It wasn’t that she expected to find Quentin sitting at the bar, waiting patiently for her. She just felt better calling for a cab from a well-known spot. It started raining just as she arrived at Tupelo Honey. She stepped inside and pulled out her cell phone to call Uber. 

“You’re late.”

Jackie turned. She recognized Quentin instantly. “Oh my, I can’t believe you’re still here. I’m almost three hours late.”

“For a first date there’s no such thing as three hours late. You stood me up.”

“I’m very sorry, Quentin,” she said. “It couldn’t be helped. I was in an accident and my car was towed.”

“Really? Where was this?”

"Actually, it was in front of Dunkin Donuts.”

He laughed. A minor laughing fit to be exact. “Sorry” he said, “you look fine but I should have asked, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Please let me buy you a drink.”

Quentin checked his watch. “Dunkin Donuts is still open and I would love a cup of coffee.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you planned this whole thing.”

"Just remember, your limit is one donut and a small coffee.”