The 28 day monologue challenge: 17 - Nightmare Night Out

​It should have been a perfect night out. I'd picked the right restaurant, booked the right table. Worn the right shirt (and my lucky pants). Managed to get there on time, or actually a few minutes early, and on the right night too. And I waited. I didn't worry when you were a few minutes late. You were probably sending a last email before you ran out of the door. When you were 15 minutes late, I assumed that you had taken the wrong turn and couldn't find the restaurant. When it ticked round to 30 minutes late, I guessed that you'd missed a tube, and the Central Line was running slow again. At 45 minutes, the staff were starting to look sympathetic, and at an hour I think they were taking bets on whether I'd been stood up. The maître d' came to the table, looked hard at me, leaned in, licked my nose and purred. I sat up in shock, looking right into my startled cat's eyes. A nightmare. And I need to go, or I will be late…