The Reddest of Flags

So this week I fell off the posting wagon between finals, final assignments, work, NaNoWriMo, renovations, and an upcoming visitor, I forgot to edit my Friday work, and forgot to schedule this, my six sentence story based on the word valet. Follow our non-specific narrator as they drive up to a place that is out of there league, and realize that this is no ordinary dinner.

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I knew that a mistake had been made the second I pulled up to the restaurant, which was far more fancy than he had let on.  The complementary valet parking stood out like a giant red flag, warning me that there was danger within and I should have turned around right then and there.

I walked into the place, glad I had dressed up, but not meeting the income level to wear clothes that would pass muster in a place like this, so I held my head up and did my superhero walk, because confidence covers a multitude of sins.

I sat down at the table, waiting for him and when the pre-paid champagne was offered I figured out what was going on, turned it down, and I asked for directions to the bathroom.

I sat hyperventilating in the stall, and the text that said he was running 20 minutes late was like a blessing, the out that I had been waiting for. 

I slipped out the front, palming a 50$ to the host at the front door to say I hadn’t arrived, retrieved my car and sped out before I could be spotted, sending a text about a last minute emergency, and making a plan on how I was going to break up with Mike, because tonight I discovered that this was not a man I wanted to marry.