Sunday, May 1, 2011

No Match

“I love this weather.” His sleeves were rolled up his forearms. He picked up his coffee and sipped. They sat at a table on the city sidewalk. He picked up a peanut butter cookie and broke it in half. “Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” she smiled. She picked up her bottle of water and sipped. “Have you been on Match long?”

A woman followed a leashed dog. The spaniel stopped his stroll and smelled Mark’s shin. He backed his leg and tucked it under the chair. “Yeah, I guess so. I’ve been sort of marathon dating. Lots of happy hours. You?”

“You’re my first date!” Heather twisted and uncapped the bottle. She nervously sipped.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m a nutritionist. “

“Well that’s an interesting field.”

“It is.” She sat straight. “People need to pay attention to what they consume!”

He picked up a shard of the cookie, thought about the content, and replaced it on the napkin.

“Do you know, if a person studied how much they pooped, they could see how poor their diet is!” She smiled, untwisted, and sipped.

“Wow. Really.” He picked up the cookie and bit. “Never thought about it.”

“Well, think about it!” Her enthusiasm seemed odd to him. “If it was nutritionally healthy, why would our bodies discard it?”

“Well,” he straightened on the metal chair, “I would think the volume of consumption would be a factor regardless of the nutritional content.”

“Maybe.” Heather capped and twisted.

“I love this weather.” He stretched his legs under the table and crossed his arms over his heart.