Chapter 19: Date Night (Part 1)
The closer tonight seems to get, the more nervous I seem to become. The date itself seems like a simple affair: show up to Derpy’s house, have dinner, talk politely. All the stuff we are trained as castle staff to be able to do from day one. It was less about the fact that I was going to sit down to dinner with anice, attractive mare, and more the fact that everypony I’ve talked to all day seems to have an overprotective streak of this pegasus, who seems to be the town’s lovable goofball.
Which means I have to go out of my way not to annoy her, or pretty much the entirety of Ponyville will do horrible things to my unconscious body. A sentiment I believe one mare actually said, word for word, come to think of it.
I’m relatively well-dressed, Rarity having settled on a simple brown pinstriped vest and button-down shirt, which I had to resist the urge to alter in annoyingly noticeable ways.
Her house is a simple cottage, which stands out from its neighbors by sheer virtue of being mildly… askew. The front door and window look like they have been reinstalled more than once. The steps look slightly warped, and some of the paint is uneven. It’s like looking at a house designed by… me. It’s oddly charming.
I make my way up the steps, a little wobbly in some places, and knock on the door. “Just a second!” a tomboyishly adorable voice calls out, and I hear some shuffling, and a loud thud, before the door shakes a second. Then there’s another thud and the door pops open. On the other side is Derpy, who has her hair brushed back into a very soft and fluffy cascade over her shoulders. She’s wearing a rather flattering blue over-the-shoulder number, accentuated by a white stud earring. All in all she looks rather pretty.
“I’m sorry, the door takes a bit of work to get it open after the last time I replaced it,” she explains sheepishly.
I look over the frame for a moment, with a general idea of the problem. Looking down at the bottom of the frame, I notice that part of it is warped upwards. Something I’ve done to the doors in my guest rooms more than once. As well as my coworker’s. I give it a quick stomp, and an appraising look, then step back. “Ok, try it again,” I say.
Derpy gives me a curious look, but closes the door again. A second later, it opens just fine. “Wow! How’d you know?”
“That’s… a long story,” I explain. “You look lovely.”
She blushes a little, and motions me inside. “Thanks. You, too!”
I trot inside, and get a good look around the house,. It’s a little askew in all kinds of places. Honestly, it’s kind of homey. “How’d you do that?” Derpy asks, tilting her head.
“What, the door? There was a warp in the wood-”
She shakes her head. “No, not that. That,” she elaborates, pointing at the rug. It’s hitched in one corner where a wooden plank sits a half inch above the rest. “Nearly everypony trips over that.”
Which is why I do that to my bedroom floor, I muse to myself. “Just lucky, I guess.”
She seems to be okay with that answer, as she changes gears and heads for the kitchen. I follow her, and take a seat on a stool at the island. “Well, I told you I was gonna make dinner, so I hope you like bread pudding!”
It’s my turn to quirk my head. “I thought you made muffins?”
She laughs. “Muffins are for breakfast, silly! Anyway, this was the only thing I could think to make that used those oats you bought me!”
“I thought you were going to use those for a certain recipe?” I ask.
“Oh, I did!” She gestures to a wooden box on the counter with a glass door. There’s a bunch of muffins in it. “But I had a bunch of oats left over, and I did say I was gonna cook them for you!”
She pulls a large bake pan out of the oven, and there’s a wonderful nutty, cinnamon-y scent that wafts through the room. “That smells delicious!”
She serves me a plate, then herself, though not without getting some on her muzzle. I take a paper towel and wipe it off, which makes her blush. “...sorry,” she says after a moment.
“Don’t worry about it. I clean up after a giant manfoal,” I joke.
She doesn’t seem to get it, and continues on. “So, bone appetite?”
Close enough. “Sure.” I take a bite of the dish, and it’s both the sweetest and most savory thing I’ve ever eaten. Honestly, it’s a little overwhelming, and I can feel my arteries painting picket signs already, but it’s delicious. Which I guess becomes apparent as I take a few more bites rather quickly, momentarily forgetting my manners.
I stop myself when I see Derpy laughing into her hoof. “So, um… you like it?” she jokes.
It’s my turn to blush, as I wipe my mouth with a towel. “Yes. Yes I do.”
She smiles warmly. “Good,” she says, taking a bite of her own. Her reaction isn’t quite as enthusiastic as mine, but she seems proud of her work. “Ooh, these oats are so good!” she cheers, making the most adorable expression.
We eat and chat amicably for a while, and I find myself in a curious position. It’s been a while since I’ve genuinely wanted to spend more time with somepony, in a way that doesn’t drive them, or somepony else, up the walls. It’s a nice, open conversation, and we open up to each other, a little bit. She explains how she has a roll of bad luck, and seems to have a habit of causing accidents, or being a general inconvenience. It sounds like, well, what I do, only not on purpose. Yet she seems happy here, having found a bunch of ponies who get along with her and accept her rather well. It makes me happy for her to hear her story.
“So, what do you do?” she asks, after relating her experiences as a local mailpony.
“Oh, I’m Prince Blueblood’s butler. Right now I’m filling in as temporary staff at Twilight’s castle until she hires her own butlers and cooks and stuff. There’s not that much for me to do around here, honestly. I doubt she’ll be hiring her own butler when I leave, as she’s already got a personal assistant,” I find myself suppressing the urge to ramble.
She nods with a smile. “That sounds… kind of boring, actually.”
I chuckle. “Oh, I assure you, it’s not. He lives a very eventful life, and Ponyville has been a treat to visit.”
Her smile grows wider, and more genuine. “That sounds better! But I was actually more curious about, well, you. Like, what’s your special talent?”
Hoh boy. “Well, it’s kind of hard to explain. Um, do you know what Schadenfreude means?”
She nods, “Yeah, I looked it up when I got home yesterday. Something about like, finding joy in the misfortune of others, or something? It sounds kind of mean, actually.”
I look away nervously, with half a smile. “Yeah… that’s kind of what I do. Like, my special talent is finding new and interesting ways to annoy people.”
She pouts, giving me a disapproving look. “Well, hmm. Not sure how to feel about that. I mean, it’s your special talent, so it’s not exactly something you can control, right? But at the same time, it kind of makes you sound like-”
“-a douchebag?”
She snorts. “I was going to say jerk, but okay. So what, you just… go around annoying people?”
“Kind of. I specialize in subtle practical jokes, like… ok, that thing with the door? I do that to the door to my room so ponies have a hard time getting it open. Or I’ll rearrange books on a shelf in a library so ponies have to spend extra time looking for them. Little things like that. Sometimes I do bigger pranks, but that’s like, five percent of everything,” I add.
“So that thing with the rug?” she asks, gesturing towards the door.
I nod. “I do that at my place.”
“On purpose?”
“Not like, a really big lump or anything. Ponies getting hurt isn’t funny to me. I just like watching them get annoyed or frustrated. I don’t do like, gross stuff either. That’s cheap, and if you’ll pardon the pun, dirty humor,” I suddenly feel the urge to occupy myself with another bite of food.
She shrugs. “Well, as long as you don’t go around hurting other ponies. I mean, I may be a klutz, but you should see some of the pranks Rainbow Dash pulls. Some of them are just mean.”
“So… my special talent doesn’t bother you?” I ask hesitantly.
“Well, no. I mean, it does a little, but that’s who you are, you know? You can’t help being… annoying any more than I can help being a klutz. It’d be kinda backwards if I got all mad at you for being you. Just as long as you don’t like, do anything super super bad. Besides, I’ve met ponies a LOT more annoying than that, and we’re still friends,” she explains.
“Really? How is THAT possible?”
She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, there’s this girl I know who like, screams at everything. She’s scared of her own shadow. At first it was cute. Now it’s like, where’s the volume control?”
“I-” I don’t complete the sentence as a high-pitched shriek pierces the room. I jump up in alarm, almost flipping my plate, until I see Derpy hasn’t moved. “Um...”
“Give it a minute.”
A few seconds pass, and we hear through the window. “Oh, sorry! Just a broom!”
Derpy sighs and takes another bite. “Like I said.”