A Tinder Moment
She spits in her martini glass.
Harrumphs as the server sweeps it away,
complains DRY means DRY.
Her husband stares at his phone.
His finger hovers over the screen.
I imagine him not as her husband,
but as her date. They wear rings, but
in my mind, they are single, separate,
each with an option to stay or move on.
The wine arrives, I dare not look.
My own glass rests, untouched,
next to my phone. We wait.
This salad has too much
dressing, she says. Nobody
likes a limp Caesar. The steak is tough.
The air is too cold. Can they do something
about the A/C? What about dessert? Do you want
the chocolate volcano cake? How about
the crème brûlée? It’s settled then.
Death by chocolate. I pour my own wine
from the buy-one-get-one carafe.
Two spoons, please. I never hear
him speak. I want him to swipe,
keeping his options open.
Randi Lynn Sanders is currently enrolled in the Master of Fine Arts program in Creative Writing at Mississippi University for Women. Randi lives on the gulf coast of Florida, where she maintains her own financial advisory practice while honing her craft in her spare time, usually before or after market close.