By Buck Dopp.
“She’s hot as hell,” Rex said. “Trust me. I’ve seen her up close and personal.”
“It’s not that. I’m just not into blind dates,” Herbie said.
Herbie tipped his mug to swig the last of an ice-cold draft. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and burped so loud the other patrons did double takes from their bar stools. The best friends slid off their stools, Rex paid the tab, and they started walking down the street.
“Here’s the thing,” Rex said. “If you’d be willing to go out with a blind date, I can go out with Charlene, who doesn’t want to go out with me alone on our first date. That’s all.”
“I don’t blame Charlene,” Rex said. “I wouldn’t go out alone with you either.”
“Very funny, smart ass,” Rex said smiling.
Rex put his arm on his pal’s shoulder and continued to press his argument for the double date until he convinced Herbie to go.
The next day, Rex and Herbie sat on a park bench by the memorial fountain and duck pond where Charlene told them to wait. The couples planned to feed the ducks and then have lunch at a nearby restaurant.
At the appointed time, Rex saw Charlene and her friend approaching and waved.
Herbie spied the girls, then turned to his friend and said, “You’re right. She’s hot as hell. But what’s with the German shepherd?”
“What do you mean? I told you she was a blind date.”