Page 6 of Finding Frankenstein a Date

Vince came back, refilling Drac’s coffee for him and giving Bob his milkshake. It was huge.

“Wow.” Bob looked at the thing, and then at the metal container that came with it. “Oh my god, there’s more in here.”

“That’s the stuff that won’t fit in the glass.”

“Holy shit.”

“I could bring a couple more glasses and you could share with your friends?” Vince suggested, obviously having figured out that Bob and Drac were with him.

“Ew, dairy. No.” Drac made all sorts of gagging faces.

Bob rolled his eyes and looked over in Franky’s direction.

“I don’t have a problem with dairy,” Franky said. “And it looks good.”

Bob took a sip and he had to really pull on it to get any. “It’s amazing. Yes, please, bring Franky a glass so he can help me finish this.”

“You got it.”

“It looks super thick. Like how they used to make milkshakes.” Franky had noted that while not everything was better ‘in the good old days’ there were some things that they just didn’t make the same anymore. Milkshakes were one of those things.

“It is. Good thing I have strong sucking muscles.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Bob’s mouth.

Drac on the other hand, choked on his coffee and then went into a fit of laughter. Bob grinned at Franky and he grinned back.

“Here you go.” Vince put the glass in front of Bob, along with an extra straw before hurrying back to the little podium by the door to greet a new pair of customers.

Bob poured what was left of the milkshake in the metal container into the empty glass and passed it and the straw over.

Franky gave it a try, loving the way he had to work to get the shake up through the straw. It was definitely worth the effort, too, the flavor delicious. They had to be using high quality ice cream as good as it was.

Time seemed to have slowed way down and he found himself going back to the shake again and again as he waited for the clock to say it was two forty-five.

A man rushed in at two forty and looked around before waving off Vince as the waiter headed to the podium. He made his way to Franky’s booth.

“Frank, I take it.” The man looked at his watch and sat without waiting for an invite or for Franky to stand or offer a handshake or anything.

“Yes, and you must be Wilson.”

“I am.” The guy pulled out his phone and opened it up. All Franky could see from upside down was a lot of text. “All right, I’m a tad early, but let’s get started.”

“Okay. It’s nice to meet you,” Franky said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Wilson waved his hand dismissively. “Where are you from?”

“I live here, how about you?”

“Yes, but where were you born?” Wilson asked, not answering Franky’s question.

“Germany.”

“Do you have a job?”

“Not at the moment.” He was between jobs.

Wilson frowned at that and looked up. “So you’ve got family money then?”

Franky frowned himself. Wilson was being rather rude. “I’m not sure what that has?—”