Code Cafe
His cousin has never really had boundaries, but this is a topper. “That doesn’t excuse putting a profile up behind my back.”
“You’re acting like it’s a kick me sign–just meet her for coffee like I said you would, today at six at VerdeBean–”
“You pretended to be me?!” Sometimes Bruce regrets not punching his cousin more when they were boys. "What is wrong with you, Tony?“
“Like we have time for that; it’s already after five. Don’t worry, it was all in text, I was self deprecating and used a lot of big words. Like self-deprecating.”
“And she agreed to a coffee date with your parody of me–”
“I also sent her pictures from Pete’s graduation party, you look like a lumberjack but it’s the only ones I have where you’re smiling–”
“You sent her–I feel like a puppet. This is not cool, Tony.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t send the shots of you in the purple Speedo after the party became a rager.”
He grabs his forehead and squeezes hard. “There’s pictures of that?”
“So you gonna stand her up?”
“I should.” Bruce’s phone beeps, and he flips through the links Tony’s sent because he’s incurably curious and, though he’d never tell Tony, planning on going to the coffee shop anyway to apologize for his cousin being a nosy shit. “You put my CV on here? I’m a lab tech, Tony.”
“Ha, made you look! And you got a fucking doctorate, your research funding turning to shit after the accident didn’t change that.”
Bruce shakes his head and opens the next profile. "What is it with you and snub-nosed blondes?“
"I’ll tell my Pepperoncini that, she’ll have your balls for a trophy.”
“I thought yours already took up most of her purse. Does she know you’re still on dating sites?” His phone beeps again and he opens the next set of attachments.
“She was watching Ace of Cakes at the time, but yeah, she helped me browse profiles. Did you see that Tasha did some modeling while she was getting her master’s in criminal justice and minor in Russian lit? Pep found the shots, high end lingerie.”
Bruce’s thumb pauses in the scroll and he swallows. “You know I’m not cut out for high-maintenance.”
“I told her you’re the kind of frog who isn’t looking for a princess. She said half the time she wears makeup it’s to cover the bruises from roller derby. She’s a Long Island T-Rex, goes by the name Smack Widow.”
“Fuckin A, Tony, you’re killing me.” He heads inside, pulling his t-shirt off on the way to the shower.
“So you’ll go? I knew you’d go. One thing you should know, though, before you go–I sound like Dr. Suess–”
Bruce thinks it’s more yappy Pomeranian, “I’m hanging up now, Tony.” Just as the call disconnects his cousin edges in the last word.
“PeppersentTashatheSpeedopics.”