Ugly : clifford a.u

Michael

Here’s the thing about being blind. Everyone just sort of assumes you’re incompetent, which I mean, to a degree, you are. For example, you probably shouldn’t try to cross four lanes of traffic by yourself, or take a small child who is known to be a little bit of a pathological liar to pick out movies, or use large knives to chop vegetables into small pieces.

Which is why I never really minded the fact that my Mom made it her business to insert herself in my business. I mean if I had a kid who couldn’t see anything other than a permanent, vast and terrifying black nothingness, I’d probably be a bit over protective myself.

However, that being said, there was no way I was letting the well meaning woman join me on my date.

“Mom,” I sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time, “I love you, but I don’t need you right now.”

“Are you sure?” she said slowly, “It’s no problem.”

“I want pizza!” Maggie shouted from the backseat.

“Maggie and I could go in with you and sit at another table.” Mom offered.

“I’m seventeen not seven!” I cried, “Mom’s don’t sit and watch their kids on dates after seventh grade.”

“How will you find her?”

“She’ll find me.”

“I don’t know Michael.”

“Mom.” I groaned, turning in the passenger seat so I was facing her, “You’ve got to let me go at some point.”

“I know.” She said patting me on the knee, “I know, I just worry.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“A bad guy could come in and steal the pizzas and shoot you.” Maggie piped up from the backseat.

“Maggie!” Mom chided, “Don’t think things like that.”

“Sorry Nana.” She mumbled.

“I’ll be fine.” I sighed grouping around until I found my Mom’s hand and patted it reassuringly.

“If you need anything, call me.” She pleaded.

“Will do.” I answered, fumbling with the door handle.

“I love you.” Mom said as I got the door open, “Use your best manners, be a gentleman and have fun.”

Nodding I waited for Lola to hop out of the car behind me before waving, and turning on my heel started forward, towards the restaurant.

As soon as I stepped through the door’s of Peggy’s Pizza my nose was greeted by the addicting aroma of fresh bread, Italian spices and Cheese that everyone loves. Thinking to myself that I could make a small fortune if I bottled the scent and sold it, I was startled by the sound of an obnoxiously nasal voice, inches from my face.

“Hello!” the voice greeted loudly, “My name is Jessica, welcome to Peggy’s!”

“Do you always scream at people when they come in the door?” I demanded.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, still talking like she was speaking to a none English speaking individual or perhaps an infant, “Are you hear all by yourself?”

“No actually, I’m on a date.” I replied.

“A date!” she breathed, “Good for you!”

“Thanks.” I muttered, more than a little ticked off with the way I was being treated like an idiot.