Like Father, Like Son (standard:romance, 1109 words)
Author: makepeaceken	Added: Dec 22 2021	Views/Reads: 1009/625	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Carly skips work and spends the morning in the park, where she meets this boy. They go out on a date, but things don't turn out how she expects.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

When she arrived at the supermarket she thought she'd slip in quietly,
but there was little chance of that when she saw the manager on the 
shop floor, staring straight at her. 

‘Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Braithwaite.' he said
to her, looking as though he was amazed that she had even bothered to 
arrive after missing a couple of days' work. 

‘Sorry I haven't been in of late, Mr Hodgkison, but I haven't been
well.' 

‘You may not have been well but if you know it or not, they have
invented a contraption called the telephone. You can even get mobile 
ones now. You have probably got one in your back pocket. Next time you 
are feeling ill, try using it to tell me you may not be coming in.' 

‘My phone is broken, Mr Hodgkinson.' 

‘Enough of your cheek, my girl. This is a verbal warning - next time it
will be in writing. Understand?' 

‘Perfectly, Mr Hodgkinson.' 

Carly carried on into work, changed into her uniform, then went back on
to the shop floor to start her duties. She was keeping her head down. 
The last thing she wanted was a written warning - after that, it would 
be the sack. She didn't want that. She was saving up to go on holiday 
with some of her friends. They were going to a holiday camp in North 
Wales. She was so looking forward to it. 

When the time came for Carly to finish work, she got herself ready to go
and meet the boy she had gone to the cinema with the previous evening. 
They were having a meal at the restaurant, he had mentioned, in town. 

Carly got to the restaurant. She waited for ages outside for him, but
there was no sign. She was disappointed. So she made her way - to where 
he lived. She knew which street but not the number. She was going to 
knock on the first door she came to and hope for the best. But when she 
got into the street, she didn't have to look far. He was in his front 
garden cleaning a car, which was probably his dad's. 

She went up to him, seething with anger. Boy, was she going to let him
have it! 

‘So, what's your problem?' she said to him. ‘You couldn't be bothered to
turn up to the restaurant. You'd rather be cleaning your dad's car. 
Thanks a bunch.' 

‘Get lost,' he said to her. ‘I've got better things to do with my time
than go and meet you at some crummy restaurant.' 

Carly was getting really mad. Then, before she could have another go at
him, this man walked into the front garden from the back of the house. 
She presumed it was his dad. But hang on, she knew him from somewhere - 
of course, it was the nasty bus driver who had suggested that if she 
didn't want to miss the bus, she should get to the stop earlier. No 
wonder they were related - they were both pig-ignorant. 

Carly walked away, thinking - typical - like father, like son.

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