The Man Who Refused To Take His Gorilla Mask Off, Part 5

Steve stares into the bathroom mirror, combs the fur on his gorilla mask, and straightens his tie.
"Sheila," he says. "You look so beautiful tonight. Oh, thanks. Don't mention it. And what a lovely dress."
He clears his throat and starts again. "You must be Sheila. You look great. So nice to finally meet you. How about some wine? What a beautiful dress."
He loosens the tie. "Sheila. Hi. It's Steve. I'm so glad to finally meet you. You look even more beautiful than I imagined."
He takes off the tie. "No, that's stupid. Don't want to overdo it. I'll just tell her she looks nice and ask her if she wants some wine. And lose the tie. Yeah, not too formal. That makes me look desperate."
The phone rings and Steve drops the comb in the toilet. He curses himself and runs into the living room. He picks up the phone on the fourth ring.
"Hello," he says.
"Hi, Steve?" a woman's tentative voice asks.
"Yes, this is Steve. Is this Sheila?"
"Yeah," she says, less tentative now. "How are you?"
She emphasizes the word "you," which Steve finds endearing.
"I'm good," Steve says. "Thanks for asking."
"I just wanted to let you know that I'm on my way, and I just wanted to doublecheck that address. It's 1232 Dixiecrat Avenue, right?"
"Right. Apartment number 15."
"Right," she says. "Do you have a gate code or anything like that?"
"No, anyone can just waltz right in. And I'm on the second floor. I forgot to mention that."
"Okay," she says sweetly. "I'll see you in a few."
"Bye," Steve says, holding the phone in his hand like a newborn baby. He looks at it for a long while, then hangs up and paces nervously. He urinates twice and notices that his hands are shaking. He jogs in place and breathes deeply, in and out. He checks his watch once, twice, three times.
The knocking on the door startles him. He cracks his knuckles, opens the door, and sees Sheila, the first woman who answered his personal ad. Sheila is tall, blonde, and tan. Steve can't believe his good fortune. She looks just like a California beach goddess, he thinks.
"Sheila," he says. "So good to finally meet you. Come in."
"Oh my god," Sheila says, laughing. "You're wearing an apeman mask. It's just like your ad. You're so funny. Oh my god."
"I feel like King Kong meeting Fay Wray," Steve says. "Only I hope it doesn't end as badly. I really don't feel like falling off a building tonight."
Steve takes Sheila's hand and escorts her inside. They give each other a brief, impersonal hug.
"Your personal ad was so funny," Sheila says. "Mr. Apeman."
"Thank you," Steve says, slightly baffled. What was so funny about it, he asks himself. Well, as long as she's having a good time. "So, are you a wine drinker?"
"Yeah," Sheila says.
"Great. I have a zinfandel if you like red and a chenin blanc if you like white."
"The red would be great, thanks."
Steve enters the kitchen and takes the bottle of zinfandel from the cupboard. He pops the cork and pours two glasses, putting a silly-straw in his so he can drink it through the mask. When he reenters the living room, Sheila's smile fades.
"Here you go," Steve says cheerfully and hands her the glass.
"Um," Sheila says and looks around awkwardly. "Are you gonna take that mask off pretty soon?"
"Why," Steve asks worriedly. "Don't you like it?"
"Uh, we're supposed to be on a date here."
"We are," Steve says. "But this mask is me. I feel like myself in it. I don't take it off. It's no big deal. We can still have a good time."
They both sip nervously on their glasses of wine. Neither of them say anything.
"How long have you been wearing it?" she asks.
"Oh, since Halloween."
"But that's been over a month," Sheila says. "What do they think of it at your job?"
"I've been on vacation this month," Steve says. "I go back Monday. I guess I'll find out then."
"How do you eat in it?"
"Well, this mouth slit is pretty big. If the pieces are small enough, I can fit them right through the mask. Otherwise, I have to pull the bottom of the mask out a little and slide the food under it. I've gotten pretty good. And I drink through a straw."
"Oh," Sheila says and stares down at her feet.
Steve finishes his wine and feels the urge to urinate again. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go to the restroom."
When Steve comes out of the bathroom, the kitchen table is empty. Sheila's glass of wine is still relatively full. The front door is open. He looks out the window and sees Sheila running down the street toward her car. She looks back nervously, and Steve ducks behind the curtain. He hears a car door slam and an engine start up. He takes her semi-full glass of zinfandel and empties it in the sink. Then he slumps down in his La-Z-Boy recliner and crumples a straw in his left hand.
A single tear trickles down the plastic cheek of the gorilla mask.