The promise of burritos and beer at Harry’s Burritos can make a man melt into submission. I hate shopping, especially if I am not getting any from the girl I’m forced to second hand shop with, but I did enjoy the company and the gauc. I should have known their was a catch, but she caught me off guard and dragged me into Urban Outfitters. After an hour and a half with no black beans in sight, I hit the wall. I have my limits, and started to fidget and whine much like a child stuck at the DMV.
I kept asking to leave, in a whine I’m okay with. She kissed my cheek, slapped it lightly, and told me to hush. A shop girl bore witness to this and said we were an adorable couple. Kara chimed in accordingly:
Oh he’s not my boyfriend. He’s actually a very smart, cute, funny, charming, on the market boy that I am not even platonically interested in ninety percent of the time.
Then came the awkward pause.
She never said I was a great conversationalist.
This thusly broke ice and eased tension. This was when Kara asked to borrow Jess’s phone. She fiddled around for a tiny bit, before handing it back to Jess.
There you have his number, now call him.
She took dialed me almost immediately, and we both just kind of laughed at the awkwardness of the situation, and Kara vanished. I apologized for her, and the girl introduced herself. We talked for a bit until I realized that Kara had completely left the store…and turned her phone off. I was pissed, and Jess noticed. She meekly mentioned how she was out of work in fifteen minutes, if I wanted to stick around.
She didn’t actually get out until thirty minutes later. But I killed time by walking around the block and chain smoking, before dodging to a corner store for Tic-Tacs. I caught her brown boots walking towards me out of my peripheral vision as I fumbled with my lighter. She meekly said hello, and we walked to Harry’s. I may have been on an unexpected date, but I was still intent on sour cream & Jack cheese.
There were a lot of awkward pauses and lots of joking about Kara. She kept saying how she still couldn’t believe the boldness of her, and I just said, “Yeah, it’s been years and neither can I.” And she asked how I was available, and I mentioned that I was kind of labellessly seeing someone, and trying to play the field.
So I’m just a notch on the bedpost?
No, never. The sofa at least. My bed’s awful.
She laughed, and I thought about how that technically wasn’t that far off. She was just 60 of 100, or whatever the actual number is at this point.
