To Be the Man
Written by: strugglingwriter
“Dude?”
“What?”
“Are you really going to eat that?”
“This? Yeah, that was my plan. Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a little *whistles*”
“Are you saying my breakfast choice is gay?”
“A little, yeah.”
“It’s a croissant.”
“I KNOW. And don’t say it like that. There’s a ‘t’ in there at the end. Pronounce it like an American.”
“I just never knew a pastry could have a sexual orientation.”
“Well, it does. And yours is playing for the wrong team.”
“Have you ever tried one? Put a little butter on there and you’re good to go. They go excellent with tea.”
“Dude you’re embarrassing me. Do you have to hold out your pinkie like that? There’s some hot waitresses here.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well there are. People are gonna think we’re a couple or something. You can sabotage it for yourself, but don’t ruin it for me too.”
“Don’t you think about anything other than picking up women? Anyway, what’s so manly about that monstrosity you ordered?”
“Are you kidding me? Death by Omelet? You got five eggs, half a pound of bacon, three cups of cheddar cheese, ham, onion, and whatever else they could find. Fried! Better than that, if you finish it in an hour you get half off your next meal.”
“That’s not breakfast, that’s a cry for help.”
“And it only cost me six bucks. I won’t have to eat the rest of the day.”
“That’s because you’ll be dead, big man.”
“Whatever. Dude, put that pinkie finger down and check this chick out. I think she’s headed our way.”
“Hey. I was sitting over there and couldn’t help but notice we ordered the exact same thing. Don’t they have the best croissants here? Flaky, but not too dry. I love how they practically melt in my mouth.”
“Um, yeah. Goes well with a nice cup of tea too.”
“Totally. Have you seen some of the other stuff on the menu, though? I’d hate to see the person who would order that omelet thing. Disgusting.”
“…”
“ Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s under the impression that women are only impressed by men that eat large quantities animal products.”
“Yeah, not so much. Hey, do you come here often? Crap, that sounded lame. I just thought maybe we could hang out sometime. I mean, they have that two for one deal on Tuesdays.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Great. Here’s my cell number.”
“Cool.”
“Well, I gotta go. My gymnastics coach will kill me if I’m late for practice. Have to get my stretching in. You know how bad traffic is on campus.”
“Yeah, it sure is…terrible. Nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you too. Don’t forget to call me. Oh, and you might want to check on your friend. He doesn’t look so well. Too many eggs maybe?”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine in a day or two. Once all the grease makes its way through his system.”
…
“Dude, do not look at me like that. I swear I’ll punch that smirk right off your face.”
“I wouldn’t do that. You better conserve your energy if you plan on eating that whole thing.”
“You know what? She probably gave you a fake phone number. She wasn’t that hot, either.”
“I think I’ll take my chances. Hey, why don’t you let me get you a croissant? Looks like you could use a little more to eat.”
“Ugh. I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Pingback: A Little Flash Fiction « The Struggling Writer