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First Date
by Bill Tope

She watched, mortified, as he bit into his steak
sandwich.  He took enormous bites and chewed
loudly, with his mouth wide open.  She grimaced
as he ran his long, ugly pink tongue over his
mouth, gleaning even the slightest traces of
animal tissue and blood and grease.
You could learn a lot about a person on a first date,
she thought.  Like, where they took you for dinner.
Her lips twisted wryly and she glanced down at the
menu: "Dweet's All-Nite Abattoir."  She wasn't at all
sure if she was ready to taste the blood on his lips.
There would be no first kiss tonight, she decided.
Originally published in Down in the Dirt Magazine