On Tuesday night, Ben shows up at five to ten in his usual sweats, rain dripping off the brim of his baseball hat. He speeds through his shopping.

"What did you think of Linda?" he jumps right into it when he reaches my register.

"D'you want me to be honest, or spare your feelings?"

"We've agreed on honesty, and it has worked out well so far. You are the mentor here."

"The mentor, you say." If only he knew what was going on in my head half the time I saw him, he'd not have such a high opinion of me. "I wanna make sure I'm giving you a choice, it being your first date and all. I can go easy on you."

"Say what you think. I'm looking for your real opinion."

I take a second to type in the item number for the plantains he's buying tonight. What does one make with plantains?

"Linda thinks you are hot, and she told me so."

"That's good, right? That's the reaction we were looking for." He seems pleased with himself.

"Sure." I throw a bag of quinoa into his tote with a little too much force. "If that's what you're after. "You're too juicy of a piece of meat for Linda not to want to pounce on. He did say to be honest but somewhat honest should do. I can't imagine myself saying that last bit out loud.

"I think it is."

Oh, really? That's what he's after? I shouldn't be judging. I've had my fair share of fun. I'm not going to cockblock anyone. "As long as you don't fall for the 'I'm such a delicate princess' act and keep using her as your practice ground, I don't see any problems."

"Glad we agree." Ben's almost smiling again.

"There's something I want to tell you about yesterday." If my opinion of Linda made him happy, my view of the situation he got me into last night should dampen his excitement.

"Go ahead."

"I didn't appreciate you dragging me to sit up front with you. That wasn't the deal. I was supposed to stay in the back and slip out of there. I had no chance to leave in the middle of the event from the first row." I keep my voice low and neutral, aware of Chris lurking behind me at his register. He's the biggest gossip.

"I didn't intend for that to happen. When I texted you as they were about to start, and you texted me back that you were going to be late because your 'driver is turning into a Capitan', I laughed. So Linda asked me whom I was texting with, and I couldn't lie. I told her a friend of mine was on her way as well. She suggested we keep a spot for you."

I love it when he gets my jokes. No, stop, don't get distracted but his praise. Focus on the uncomfortable situation he dragged me into. I search for more words of discontent to spout but I find none.

"You are forgiven—this time." Why am I such a softie where Ben was concerned? At least he didn't manipulate me on purpose. "But please don't do it to me again."

"Not do what? Invite you out?"

"No, Ben. Do not introduce me to your dates, as a friend or as anything else. I want to help you, but I need to stay behind the scenes. OK?"

"Sure. I can do that," Ben agrees. "And you don't need to come to dinner on Friday."

"A dinner on Friday?" What the heck is he talking about? What dinner? I can't keep up. "I'm not following."

"Linda and I are having a dinner date on Friday," Ben says as if the information should be familiar to me. "I'll text you to get advice. Can you talk tomorrow?"

"Sure." But my hands become fists. I'm not a fan of Linda. Tall's wrong. She's way too aggressive for her to be a good fit for Ben's first practice date. I look at my fists. Overreacting much? Maybe someone who's clearly experienced is who Ben needs. I'm judging again. I don't need to like her. As long as Ben likes her, my role is to give him dating advice. Not interfere or pick his future wife.

We skip our usual parking lot talk because the relentless rain drenches both of us as we dart from the store to our cars.

***

Ten minutes into the call with Ben, I yet again regret my involvement in his dating life. Helping Ben pick a restaurant to take Linda to is a Herculean feat. He rejects my suggestions one after another.

"Where do you usually go then?" I shouldn't raise my voice. Patience. I get off the couch, walk to the window and look at the lights of the cars below. I breathe out and say without shouting. "Take her to a place you feel comfortable in, and it doesn't have to be fancy."

"I don't go to restaurants."

"At all?" Impossible.

"I've been to them before, but the last time was years ago," he says. "It's too stressful, there are too many rules to follow, and the food is not worth the money. I can make better stuff for her at home. Can I invite her to my place?"

And this is why I stick around. Linda would pounce on him the second he closes the door. How can he not get that? "Not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"There are many reasons." Like Linda striping him naked and having her way with him. No happening on my watch. Too much too soon. He needs... no, deserves to be handled with love.

"Name them."

"She'll assume you want to have sex with her."

That makes him pause.

"I do not want to have sex with her on Friday." His voice sounds firm.

"Glad to hear it." And I was.

"So, where do I take her?"

We are back to that; I get back to the couch and look at the list of places I've pulled up on my laptop. "How about a gastropub? 'The Monkey's Paw' in Lincoln Park does farm-to-table, you'll enjoy that. And it's on the quiet side, a bit intimate, and has old library books as part of the decor. That should go well with Linda."

"OK. But we need to go and test it out first."

"We? I'm working tomorrow."

"Then let's meet after your shift. We don't have to stay long."

"Don't tell me I can just leave. I've heard that one before." I can't get roped into another one of the 'help Ben and regret it later' schemes.

"I don't want you to leave. I need you to stay, so we can do a run-through."

"OK." Why did I say that? "A very quick test of the place. I should make it there around ten-thirty." Not sure my wallet will be able to make it. Being friends with Ben is turning out to be expensive. One splurge. I can allow myself that. It's for a good cause.