"I hope you're happy," Olive sighed as she came out of her bathroom, heels clacking on the floor. Her friend, Logainne, gasped.
"You look perfect!" she exclaimed. Olive had put on a simple yet lovely pink dress and some silver shoes. Her hair looked natural as did her makeup, but Olive was still a beautiful girl. She gave her friend a smile.
"Gosh, I hope so. I'll be meeting a few…guys…" Olive said nervously, knowing that meeting any boy was not her forte. She always got jittery and nervous and spurted out excessively long vocabulary words that nobody appreciated.
Olive and Logainne hopped into her black Honda, driving off to the restaurant where the speed dating would take place. Olive's heart pounded against her ribcage. She had never done anything like this. This whole plan was completely out of her character, but, dare she say it, she felt excitement. She felt like supermodel with a jelly donut; happy yet hesitant.
"We're here!" Schwartzy said with a flourish. Olive groaned. She immediately wanted to turn around and run away, but she knew that if she did, Logainne would have her head. With shaking hands, Olive hesitantly walked into the restaurant. A man greeted her, gave her a number, and showed her to her seat. Olive sat down, suddenly finding the carpet very interesting.
She heard a voice clear it's throat and looked up. Sitting in front of her was a man with a shaved head and a slightly large nose. He reminded her of her middle school PE teacher, but she grinned nonetheless.
"Hi, I'm Phil," the man began. Olive gave a forced smile.
"I'm Olive," she responded.
"Olive? Isn't that a vegetable?" he chuckled obnoxiously.
"Actually," Olive began, "it's a…never mind." It's a fruit you moron, she thought to herself, but she knew that she had to keep acting sweet if she wanted to have any luck. She knew that all of the other men would mention the vegetable thing anyway. Phil continued to talk about his life as a major in sports medicine, which didn't interest Olive in the slightest. She looked towards the exit, but there stood Schwartzy, grinning widely and waving in encouragement. Olive managed to wave back halfheartedly and continue with the conversation. She told herself to continue for Logainne's sake.
The next bunch of men included a tall lanky guy who was a dog trainer, a short and fat gymnast, and a rich but rude doctor. She did meet a rather attractive young man but he worked as a professional unicyclist, and Olive saw no future in that career. She felt hopeless as she saw one guy after another pass her by. It was down to the last several men, and Olive knew that they'd be nothing special. A man that looked a bit older than her sat down, introduced himself as Andrew, and combed back his slick black hair. Olive sighed, knowing that this would be another slimeball.
"I'm Olive," she said almost robotically.
"Olive?" he said in a demeaning tone, "isn't that a vegetable?"
"Actually," a voice behind Andrew said, "it's a fruit." Olive perked up and craned her neck to see who was behind Andrew, but couldn't quite get a view. She zoned out through Andrews speech on his shoe store career, waiting to see who this stranger was who had somehow been educated with his foods.
Finally, a guy with a nice dinner jacket and wavy brown hair sat down in front of her. He wasn't classically suave or debonair as Andrew or the doctor had been, but he had a charm about him that Olive liked even more. She thought she could see a pair of glasses peeking out of his shirt pocket. He had bright green eyes and a sweet smile that tilted just slightly to the left.
"So you're the fruit girl?" he chuckled. Olive shrugged, smiling despite herself.
"That would be me. I'm Olive," she said, offering him her hand to shake. He took out a hankie and sneezed, startling Olive.
"Sorry," he sighed, "allergies are killing me. So what is it you do, Olive?"
"I'm studying etymology," she said, hoping he'd know what that even meant.
"Of course!" he exclaimed almost proudly, "etymology, meaning a chronological account of the birth and development of particular words?" Olive's eyes widened.
"That's exactly what it means!" she marveled. She stared at the man for a while, feeling almost as if she knew him from somewhere. They continued to talk and, before she knew it, their four minutes ran out. The entire time, she felt an odd familiarity with him. Something about his confidence and sudden allergy spurts sparked her memory.
"Wait!" he said, "here." He furiously scribbled down some numbers onto her napkin. Her heart leapt, realizing what had just happened. She had obtained a male humans phone number!
"Hold on, I never got your name," she asked him, hoping that maybe it would bring some familiarity. The man looked back at her one last time before saying,
"Just call me Will."