The Bottom of Things

(Why should your writing be High Concept? Click here to find out on this week's Jared's Inkwell! -JMG)

Story Sent in by Anthony:

I'm always front and center with my profile pictures. They're always recent and they look like me, as they should. So it was a huge deal when on our date at a café, Margaret blurted, "You look nothing like your profile photos."

All I could do was apologize and say, "Sorry. They're me."

She said, "You know what?" then pulled out her phone and typed into it. She then pulled up an image of a really gross looking butt. Dark hair, pimples, blotches... a proctologist's dream come true.

"You look like that," she said.

I'm completely unsure what I said or did to her to make her behave that way. The only thing I could think of was that she was somehow convinced that I had misled her. But I hadn't.

I asked, "You think I look like your ass?"

She ripped the phone away. "It's not mine."

I said, "It's okay. With proper skin care it'll come out looking great."

"It isn't mine!" she insisted.

"Whatever," I said, sitting back and enjoying the show.

"It isn't!" she insisted so forcefully that I was convinced that she was a hair's breadth away from showing me.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," I said, "I have dry skin on my ankle."

"Screw you," she said, flopping back in her seat with wet eyes. I was surprised that she didn't leave. I ordered a salad for lunch and remained there to eat it as we sat in silence. Maybe it was awkward for her, but it wasn't really for me. After all, I wasn't the one with the behavioral issues. I paid for my salad and left her there without a word.