British Filth
British Filth
- Joined
- Jun 22, 2005
- Posts
- 335
The Dinner Game
"So the Q3 projection is going to take a nose dive" droned his dinner companions. Mike smiled politely and pretended to be interested. Truth be told, he was restless and hadn't spent two decades at the company since high school to listen to some stiff suit's idea of an interesting chat. The company can buy him all the expensive outfits and tables at swish restaurants they like; Mike just wanted to have fun. He'd taken to fitness and was in great shape, but exercise didn't fill all his needs.
"Excuse me" he offered, as he stepped away from the dining table and made his way to the restroom. The restaurant was popular and filled to capacity with similar victims of the schmoozing industry, and his eye roamed the crowd for some semblance of life; some hope for humanity amongst the dirge of figures and projections.
The glance happened just as he was about to give up hope. A lady of beautiful, pale complexion. Sitting in a smouldering red dress with long dark hair surrounded by the kind of suits that prompted Mike's escape, she looked up almost despairingly and clocked him. It can be hard to gauge exactly what's in a glance but there was little doubt on this occasion. His eyes willed her to want more, hers were seemingly pleading there was more to him than that smart suit.
"Help!" Mike mouthed, and she giggled, while her companions continued indifferent. She mimed a yawn, and seemingly excited by a gamble, gestured for him to come over.
"Gentleman, I don't think we've had the pleasure", schmoozed Mike, talking fast, giving nothing away and allowing his dazzling smile to do the assurance. "I'm Mike Doesn'tMatter and I don't believe you've introduced me to your guest?"
"Yes, of course, forgive me" offered an apparent high-flyer, confused but playing along lest a potential lead be lost. "This is Cassandra"
"Cassie", she interrupted, and outstretched her arm, as Mike took her hand and offered a kiss.
"May I?" he pandered to the suit's chivalrous old-school nature, knowing there was only one socially acceptable answer.
"Of course!" They responded and grunted, civility masking bewilderment.
Again she giggled as she walked with him around tables towards the restroom. "May you what, oh cute one? There's nowhere to go!"
"May I get you the hell out of there! You looked like you were about to die of boredom"
They shuffled around the restaurant, not equipped for movement between tables, and it didn't take long for a collision. The clatter of dishes drew the eyes of the nearby to the new couple, and threw her into him. Instinctively, he put his arm around her lower back and pulled her into him in protection.
Her ample cleavage pushed into his toned chest, their faces in close proximity as they made eye contact again, this time her desire for escape replaced with a glint and a suggestive smile.
"May you what?" she asked again...
"So the Q3 projection is going to take a nose dive" droned his dinner companions. Mike smiled politely and pretended to be interested. Truth be told, he was restless and hadn't spent two decades at the company since high school to listen to some stiff suit's idea of an interesting chat. The company can buy him all the expensive outfits and tables at swish restaurants they like; Mike just wanted to have fun. He'd taken to fitness and was in great shape, but exercise didn't fill all his needs.
"Excuse me" he offered, as he stepped away from the dining table and made his way to the restroom. The restaurant was popular and filled to capacity with similar victims of the schmoozing industry, and his eye roamed the crowd for some semblance of life; some hope for humanity amongst the dirge of figures and projections.
The glance happened just as he was about to give up hope. A lady of beautiful, pale complexion. Sitting in a smouldering red dress with long dark hair surrounded by the kind of suits that prompted Mike's escape, she looked up almost despairingly and clocked him. It can be hard to gauge exactly what's in a glance but there was little doubt on this occasion. His eyes willed her to want more, hers were seemingly pleading there was more to him than that smart suit.
"Help!" Mike mouthed, and she giggled, while her companions continued indifferent. She mimed a yawn, and seemingly excited by a gamble, gestured for him to come over.
"Gentleman, I don't think we've had the pleasure", schmoozed Mike, talking fast, giving nothing away and allowing his dazzling smile to do the assurance. "I'm Mike Doesn'tMatter and I don't believe you've introduced me to your guest?"
"Yes, of course, forgive me" offered an apparent high-flyer, confused but playing along lest a potential lead be lost. "This is Cassandra"
"Cassie", she interrupted, and outstretched her arm, as Mike took her hand and offered a kiss.
"May I?" he pandered to the suit's chivalrous old-school nature, knowing there was only one socially acceptable answer.
"Of course!" They responded and grunted, civility masking bewilderment.
Again she giggled as she walked with him around tables towards the restroom. "May you what, oh cute one? There's nowhere to go!"
"May I get you the hell out of there! You looked like you were about to die of boredom"
They shuffled around the restaurant, not equipped for movement between tables, and it didn't take long for a collision. The clatter of dishes drew the eyes of the nearby to the new couple, and threw her into him. Instinctively, he put his arm around her lower back and pulled her into him in protection.
Her ample cleavage pushed into his toned chest, their faces in close proximity as they made eye contact again, this time her desire for escape replaced with a glint and a suggestive smile.
"May you what?" she asked again...
