“You calculate expiration dates?” Cindy let the few strands of spaghetti slip from her fork. “For a living?”

“Yep,” replied Bob proudly. He stabbed a meatball and spun his fork around slowly wrapping it in a cocoon of sauce and pasta. He lifted his creation and gulped it down in one bite flicking specks of sauce on the white tablecloth and his date’s white blouse.

“That’s your entire job? You spend 40 hours a week doing just that? And someone pays you for it?” She played with her entree.

“They pay me very well. Plus full benefits AND quarterly bonuses,” he said thru a mouthful of spaghetti.

Cindy turned away. Her appetite was gone. She turned to the violinist serenading a well-dressed older couple. As they clinked crystal goblets together, she felt envy slither under her skin. She was sure all eyes focused on her and her freak show date. How did that old Sesame Street song go? One of these things is not like the others? She wondered if she would ever be able to show her face here again.

Bob stuffed another half plate of spaghetti in his mouth and let it slide down. Cindy dropped her fork and covered her mouth with her napkin. Her roommate would pay for setting her up with this, this—

“Are you all right?” Food spilled out of his mouth.

“Fine.” She set her napkin down. There was no way her roommate could possible have thought the two of them would hit it off -- not in the farthest stretches of imagination. This was definitely a cruel joke. Or revenge. Was she was still mad about the dress?
“So,” she tried to ignore his chomping, “have you always wanted to be an expiration date specialist? Is that what you dreamed of when you were a little boy?” She took a sip of her bubbly beverage.

“No, I always thought I’d be a doctor or an engineer.” He stabbed another meatball.

She nearly sprayed the table but kept her mouth closed. Bob was too focused on a new cocoon to notice.

“Really? A doctor or an engineer? Hmmm. And what made you change your mind?” She dabbed her mouth to hide a smile.

“A friend of mine was working at the Finer Foods Corporation and recommended I apply. I only planned to work there for a couple of years to help with college, but it paid so well that I decided just to make it a career.”

He took another bite. She took another drink.

“Of course, I’m still really interested in engineering and technology. Like that new E6 chip M-ROM just announced. If it really lives up to all the hype, it will change the face of computing.” He slurped down his last strand of spaghetti. “Of course, after they announce their bankruptcy in a couple of days the chip will be in limbo.”

Cindy raised her left eyebrow. “Their stock just went up ten points today. I seriously doubt they’ll declare bankruptcy.”
“They’ll have to after the charges of fraud come out—” He suddenly froze, his eyes wide open. Cindy looked puzzled. “Um,” he stumbled, “what about those Dodgers? Can you believe the season they’re having?”

The waiter appeared. “Is everything to your liking?”

“Wonderful!” Bob wiped his brow. “Everything is perfect. Couldn’t be better. Thanks for asking. What’s for dessert?”

“The food was excellent.” In her mind, Cindy added too bad I can’t say the same for the company.

“If you are both finished with your entrees, I will show you the dessert cart.”

“Yes/No!” they said in unison. The waiter paused.

“I mean I’m so full I couldn’t eat another bite.”

The waiter glanced down at her untouched plate.

“I think we’re ready for the check,” she said before Bob could order a slice of pie.

* * * * *

Half an hour later they stood at her doorstep.

“I had a great time tonight.” Bob leaned in close. “I’m so glad our roommates set us up. This has been one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” He started to tilt his head and close his eyes.

She took a step to the side. “It was … a date I’ll never forget.” She offered her hand.

He looked down at it, thought for a moment, tried to kiss is, but she took his hand and shook it. After ten seconds, she pried it away.

“Well, good night,” she opened the door and stepped thru it.

“Good night. I’ll call—” The door slammed.

Cindy sighed.

“How did your date go?” Her roommate smirked from the couch.
“I think you know how it went.” She dropped her purse on the kitchen table. “Was this revenge for the dress?”

“I don’t know,” her roommate answered innocently. “Maybe.”

“Well, don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. I will never borrow anything again without asking. Not even a cup of sugar.”

“Apology accepted. And I’ll be more discriminating about who I set you up with in the future.”

“You’d better, or you’ll be taking up residence six feet under.”

* * * * *

Bob walked into his apartment on the other side of town. He saw his roommate also sprawled on the coach—remote in one hand, microwave popcorn in the other—watching football.

“You’re back early. Must not have gone well.”

“No, it went well. But when I dropped her off at her apartment and leaned in for a kiss, something strange happened -- she stuck her hand out and shook mine.”

His roommate exploded in a fit of laughter and scattered popcorn all over the room. “A handshake? You got a handshake?! Dude, that date did NOT go well.”

“Are you sure? Maybe she was sick and didn’t want to infect me. Yes, I’m sure that was it. I’m going to ask her out again for tomorrow night.”

His roommate erupted into another fit of hysteria. He held his belly so it wouldn’t burst.

“So … you don’t think I should?”

“Oh, no, ask her out. Definitely. Call her up right now, in fact.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks. “But put it on speaker phone so I can listen too.”

“That’s cold, man. That’s really cold.” Bob walked into his room and shut the door.

* * * * *

Two days later, Cindy sat in her bathrobe sipping a warm, caffeinated beverage in the kitchen while reading the morning paper. Her roommate stumbled in, eyes half opened. She fiddled in the cupboard, banging glasses and plates against each other, before finding her mug.

“I still can’t believe you set me up with that … guy.”

“Cindy, will you give it a rest already. That was two days ago.”

“I can’t. I still have nightmares about that date, if you can call it a date. You must really think little of me to set me up with someone like that.” She took another sip of her beverage.

“Oh, just let it go. You’re making it out to be worse than it actually was. Besides, people your age aren’t in any position to be so picky.”

“My age? I’m only six months older than you.”

“Six months is an eternity when you’re as young as I am.”
Cindy looked down at the paper. Her eyes bulged and she dropped her mug. It shattered causing her roommate to jump.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! Even people as young as I am don’t do well with sudden shocks. I won’t be able to pay my half of the rent and utilities if I’m dead.”

“I don’t believe it,” Cindy muttered. “I just don’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s true. Dead people don’t have money.”

“How did he know?”

“How did who know? Aren’t we still talking about me?”

“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

“Believe what? Are you trying to confuse me to death now? What’s gotten into you, Cindy?”

“Look!” She thrust the paper in her roommate’s face.

“M-ROM Declares Bankruptcy Amid Charges of Fraud. So?”

“So, a few days ago they announced a revolutionary new chip that would redefine the nanoprocessing world. Their stock skyrocketed. No one could have predicted this headline. Unless, of course, they were privy to some pretty confidential insider information.”

“So?”

“So, Bob predicted it. He quoted the headline almost word for word.”

“So he had inside information. That happens a lot in business.”

“Sure, with millionaires and CEOs, not lowly bean counters. So where did that lowly bean counter get this information? And what else does he know? And how can I use it to my advantage?”

* * * * *

Bob sat at his desk reading the latest company newsletter when the phone rang. “Hello, Finer Foods Corporation. Bob speaking.”

“Hi, Bob. This is Cindy.”

His sat up.

“C-cindy? What a s-surprise. I d-didn’t think I’d hear from you again.”

“Why not? I had such a good time the other night that I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I’ve been sitting here next to the phone waiting for you to call, but you never did. So I decided to call you.”

“I’m so glad you did. I wanted to call—I was going to—but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

“Well, of course I did, silly!”

“Well, after that handshake…”

“Oh, that. I was coming down with something, and I didn’t want to give it to you.”

“I knew it! My roommate laughed at me when I told him, but now I’ll be the one laughing.”

“I was wondering, if you weren’t busy tonight, maybe we could get together.”

He knocked over a pencil holder. “No. I mean, yes. I mean no, I’m not busy, and yes, I’d love to get together with you tonight.”

“Ok, great. It’s a date. Seven o’clock on the boardwalk.”

“Seven o’clock. I’ll see you then.” He hung up the phone and sat for a moment. Then he leapt onto his chair and screamed, “Yeeeeeessss!”

The whole room turned and stared.

“Good news, Bob?” His friend Jim asked.

“Great news! Remember that girl I went out with the other night? Well, she just called.”

“The really hot one who shook your hand?”

“That’s the one. She just asked me out for tonight.”

“SHE asked YOU out?” His friend rubbed his chin. “Are you sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

“Of course I’m sure. She wants me. And who could blame her.”
Jim lifted a folder over his mouth.


* * * * *

That night Bob sat at a candlelit table. He checked his watch for the 17th time. 6:59. She still had a minute. She was still coming.
He looked at the other diners -- all couples. Usually that made him sad because he always ate alone and he tried to avoid eye contact with any of them, but tonight he held his head up and smiled. Just one more minute, and she would be here. Less than a minute now.

“You picked the perfect table.” Cindy slid into her seat. He bolted straight up and smiled.

“Oh, thanks. The waiter picked it out. Assigned it, actually.”

“Well, I’m sure you inspired him. I know you inspire me.” She picked up the menu and glanced over it for a moment.
“Everything looks so delicious. What’s tempting your taste buds?”

“Oh, I was thinking spaghetti. You can’t go wrong with spaghetti. But I didn’t see it on the menu.”

She suppressed a grimace. “The special looks good: fillet mignon.”

“I don’t know what that is.” He paused. “But it sounds good.”

The waiter came over. “What can I get you both to drink?”

“Just water,” Bob answered for both of them. “And we’re ready to order. We’d like two specials, please.”

“An excellent choice, sir.” He took their menus and walked away.
Cindy took a long drink. Smile, she told herself. Be pleasant and charming. Remember what you’re after.

The next hour felt like seven as she laughed at lame joke after lame joke and endured inane story after inane story.

“And so I recited the Gettysburg Address, because it was all I could remember.”

“Ha, ha. That is so funny.” She took another long drink of tap water. “The Gettysburg Address is really hard to memorize. You are very smart. Finer Foods is lucky to have such a genius working for them.”

“Oh it wasn’t that hard.”

“It was. You’ve got an incredibly sharp mind. Why, I’m sure you get lots of bonuses and raises at work.”

“No, not really.”

Cindy gripped her napkin and took a deep breath. “Well, you should. I’m sure dozens of companies are constantly trying to snap you up.”

“I doubt it. In fact, I doubt I could find another job if I ever lost this one. I don’t really have any skills. Heck, getting this one was shear dumb luck.”

“But you’re so knowledgeable and insightful. You see things others don’t. Like how you predicted M-ROM would go under when everyone else was sure they would soar.” She ran her fingers along the top of his ear and played with a tuff of hair.

“Oh, that. It wasn’t a prediction. I just happened to glance at a paper when I was—” He sat up and slapped his mouth. His eyes bulged.

“Saw what? Where? When?” She leaned in closer and ran her finger down the front of his shirt.

He stood up. “I sorry. I wasn’t suppose to say anything. Forget what you just heard.” He spun around and tripped over his chair. He picked it up, slid it under the table, and then brushed his pants.

“Sir,” the waiter rushed over, “are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I have to go.” He took a step forward, but stopped. He felt a hand on the back of his pants -- her hand. He felt blood pumping in his ears.

“Don’t go yet. This date isn’t over yet.”

* * * * *

She took him to her apartment and put on soft music.
“Oh, Bob, I’ve never been with a man like you before. You are so, so, ohhhhh. Words just can’t describe you.” She pushed him down on the sofa, straddled him, and began to unbutton his shirt. “I can only imagine how amazing you are at work—all that talent and skill.” She ripped the half buttoned shirt open. She made a trail of kisses down his chest.

“It actually—wow—doesn’t take all that much skill. Oooooh. I just set out a sample from each batch of food then, wooooh, travel to several points in the future to see when they expire. The real genius is the guy that invented the machine. Oooooo, that’s nice.”

She sat up and stared into his eyes. “You’re not joking, are you? You’re being deadly serious. You have a time machine.”

Bob turned white. “Please don’t tell anyone. In fact, forget what I just said. I could get into really big trouble. When they fire someone, they use real fire.”

She stood up and paced in front of the couch. “So what else do you do with it?”

“The time machine? Nothing else. Just expiration dates.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. Our legal department says there’s too much liability to use it for anything else.”

She picked up his coat and shoes and dropped them on his chest.

He looked up. “But we’re not done yet.”

“Oh, believe me, we are.” She pointed to the door.

“Was it something I said?”

She stood there and continued to point.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you? I mean, this is our little secret, right?”

Silence.

He shuffled past her -- head drooping -- into the hallway.

“I’ll call—” SLAM!

She shook her head. “Idiot.” She pulled out her cell phone and hit 1 on speed dial.

* * * * *

Monday morning Bob walked quickly into work. He jerked his head back and forth as he moved. He talked to no one nor made eye contact. He walked to his cubicle and sat down. He was afraid to turn on his computer.

“Hey, Bob.” He jumped three inches into the air. It was Jim on his way to make a copy. Or was he?

The main doors flew open. A dozen men in their black suits and dark glasses streamed in. They formed a semicircle, looked around, and then formed a corridor around their Commander-in-Chief. One of the men in black pointed at Bob. The president nodded.

“Bob,” he shouted across the room, “where is it?”

All eyes turned to Bob.

Bob stood up shaking. “Where’s what?”

“You know what, Bob. Don’t waste my time. I’m a busy man.”
The foreman marched up to the president. “You can’t come waltzing in here and harass one of my employees. I don’t care who you are.” He stood six inches away and stared him in the eyes. “I’m going to have to ask you and your goon squad to leave. Now.”

“Not without the time machine.”

Whispers buzzed back and forth. Time machine? What time machine. There’s no such thing. That’s just a plot device in science fiction movies. Isn’t it?

The foreman cleared his throat. “Assuming that there is such a thing as a time machine—and I’m not admitting that there is -- and assuming that we have one -- and I’m not confirming that we do -- what do you want it for?”

The president’s smile made him look like a used car salesman. “The same thing you do.”

“To figure out the expiration date on food?”

“Not food; my time as president. Elections are next week, and no one wants to be caught off guard.”

About the Author

Jeff is the creator of the Wandering Koala tales and the Cully Koala comic strip. Jeff's dream has always been to be a rock star. Unfortunately, he can't sing, he can't dance, and he doesn't look good in tight leather pants. So he decided to pursue his second dream and become a writer and artist.

When he isn’t working on his own creations, he also provides graphic design, web development, and illustrations for companies all over the country including Community Care; Southwest Specialty Foods, Inc.; World Prayer Room; Le Ritz Hotel & Suites; Big H Products, Inc; Galaxy Southwest; Mega Corporation; Members' Auto Center; The Arizona Group; Jefferson School District 251; Double Your Decompression; the American Back Pain Association; the American Academy of Pediatrics; Playground Hound, LLC; the Idaho Perinatal Project; Gatsby’s Light Publications; and many others.

You can see more of his work at www.SkyFitsJeff.com.

Other Works

The Scientific Method (a Wandering Koala tale)
Power Trip (a Wandering Koala tale)
The Ohso Project: The Recruit
The Hook (a Wandering Koala tale)
Sign of the 5th Dimension (a Wandering Koala tale)
Wandering Koala challenges The Scientific Method
Wandering Koala rides The Phantom Coach
Euphony in E

Expiration Date

by Jeff Thomason


All names, characters, and places are fictional. Any resemblance to real people—either living or dead—or places is purely coincidental. All prominent characters and places are trademarks of Jeff Thomason. All rights reserved.

©Copyright 2010 Jeff Thomason
www.SkyFitsJeff.com

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 24.07.2011

Alle Rechte vorbehalten