It had been about two years since Samantha?s last date with Tim. They had gone out for dinner to a three-star Italian restaurant downtown. Tim had, all of the sudden, remembered that he had not brought his wallet along so Samantha had to charge it to her credit card, herself. He, then, asked for some cigarettes, before taking him home. She never saw or spoke to Tim, again, and had pretty much given up on dating.
Samantha sat a small round table, twiddling her thumbs in front of the place setting before her. Connor had left to go to the restroom while they were waiting on there order. She looked up as he came smoothly, strolling, in, almost gliding from the west end of the restaurant. He smiled at her as he approached the table. She half smiled back, and blushed a bit. He sat down across from her and cleared his throat while taking his cloth napkin from the table and placing it on his left thigh.
?So, Samantha. Uh, what do you do.? He asked with spunk in his voice.
?So you like children!? he replied with a bit of enthusiasm in his voice.
?Uh, no. Actually I cannot stand kids, but I figure I can probably deal with teenagers, and teaching is the only thing I really see myself enjoying for a living, though, I do like my job at the bank. Katie tells me that you?re in med school.?
Katie was Samantha?s best friend and only friend. She worked with her at the bank. She was one of those people who everyone seems to have as a friend at one time or another in their lives. She always had something to say and advice to give. She was always calling Samantha on the phone, and of course she did all of the talking. She, actually, didn?t know very much about Samantha at all, but Samantha was fine with that. Katie always knew what was best for Samantha and exactly what she needed at any given time to add a little flavor to her life. First on Katie?s list of things to make Samantha happy was a boyfriend, with whom she needed to have a sexually active relationship with. Katie never mentioned how she met and knew Conner. Samantha never asked.
?Tell me about it. I can hardly *censored*ing balance my life with my job and my simple ass studies. I only have a few night classes a week. You must be a smart one, because I don?t see how you do it.?
Conner smiled. ?So are you from New York originally??
?No. I?m, actually, from Buffalo.?
? Well, actually, I don?t have any family. Both of my grandparents passed before I was born, and my parents were the only children in both of their families. My mother is dead,? she replied uncaringly.
Conner blushed. ?I am sorry,? he replied embarrassed.
?Oh, It?s okay. You don?t have to be sorry. She died when I was eleven years old. Sometimes it?s hard for me to remember her.?
?Can I ask why?? Conner asked timidly.
?I don?t know,? she said. ?It was really hard for me to handle it. Right when I *censored*ing needed her the most in my as a little kid, she decided to give up on life, on me, and on my father. She was a coward and selfish, and I have no respect for her at all,? she said firmly.
?Oh, yeah. She went and blew her heads off. I came home from school one day and there she lied. It was pretty disgusting, too. Her head was really swelled up and there was blood every-*censored*ing-where. I dropped my bag, and plopped down on floor, Indian style, staring at her dead body. I sat there for about for an hour or two before a delivery came, and the delivery guy looked in, screamed, grabbed me up, and ran me to the next door neighbors house where he called the police.?
Before Conner could stop the conversation, Samantha interrupted, and continued. ?It is weird, because I never freaked or cried or anything. Hell, yeah. Shit never was the same. That is why I *censored*ing hate her. Life was great until she did that bull*censored*. She was real *censored*ed up now that I think about it. She was beautiful with light green eyes and blond hair. Everybody loved her. I remember the parties the most. There were tons of gorgeous skinny women everywhere wearing long sequins, silk, and satin gowns, and handsome dark men in coal black suits and tuxedos. There were about every one of these parties every two months, along with the dinner parties thrown every three weeks. My mother would bath me and dress me like a little porcelain doll. She would tell me how important it was for a girl for a lady to look beautiful all of the time. She would tell me that was why daddy loved her so much. She, would, then set me down on her bed and get ready herself. I had to watch. How she took the most care in everything she did, and she would carry out the most tedious tasks on her eyes, hair, and nails, to get ready. By the time she was finished the party had already began, but she knew that and that was the way she liked it. After she got ready, she would grab my hand and knowing she was the most beautiful woman there she would walk slowly down the stairs with her head held high and with me at her side. The party would almost freaking come to a stop as everybody turned their heads to focus in on her.?
At this time the waitress brought bread and salad, and set it on the table.