The Hands of Fate

Story Sent in by Magda:

Carl messaged me online and we met up for a date in front of a Chinese restaurant.

"Great to meet you!" He clamped his hand on my shoulder and held on tight.

"You too," I said, followed by, "You can take your hand off my shoulder, now."

He removed it, then held the door open for me and we went inside. Once inside, the hostess asked us if we preferred a table or a booth. Carl again clamped an iron hand on my shoulder and asked, "How about it? Table or booth?"

I pulled away from his hand and said, "A booth is fine."

"Great!" he barked.

After we were seated, he actually leaned across the table to grab my shoulder and ask, "What would you like to drink?"

"Take your hand off me," I said.

"Why?" he asked, keeping his hand there. I tried to wiggle away, then I slapped his hand away.

"Ow!" he shouted, "That hurt!"

I said, "Keep your hands to yourself."

He replied, "I could say the same to you! You hit me!"

Neither of us said much of anything for the rest of dinner, except for his occasional, "I can't believe you hit me. I just don't believe it."

He paid for dinner, I thanked him, and we went our separate ways.