Girl Meets Boy
He’s been staring at these fingernails for two minutes. I’ve been timing him. How long can it last? What, you think I’m gonna stop him? You know how much these babies cost? Two inches and cherry red, (to match my lipstick) admire away. How long before he buys me a drink?I can’t help it. Those fingernails? Some sexy. The way she’s tapping that glass? They’ve gotta leave marks, the good kind. No ring. I should do something about this. Nice girl like that? It’s a pity to let an ass like that get lonely.
Three minutes, four seconds, and on to my butt. Now that is a work of art. And if I’m bragging it’s only because I deserve it. I worked hard on that thing. Buns of Steel, Stairmaster, leg weights, please let me stop. When’s he going to make a move?
I need another shot. Will three be enough? Who decided that the man has to do all the hard stuff? Oh sure, she does the whole baby thing. Nine months and all that, but WE’RE the ones who have to make that move. The first line? That perfect mix of cheesy and smooth. Those things are not so easy to find. And they never manage to appreciate it. Maybe after four. Or five. I’ll order five.
Tell me he’s going to do something. Tell me he’s not going to sit on that stool until it forgets how to hold him. Look at his hair! Think a guy with that much style shows up every day? We’re talking keeper just based on that. Maybe a smile. Those break the ice. And I haven’t been using that tooth whitening shit for two months for nothing, right?
She smiles at me and raises her glass. I follow suit. Here’s to tonight. I down the shot. I’m almost there. One or two more. The bar tender’s rolling his eyes. As he pours he looks at me. I know. Shut up. And how about a little camaraderie, huh? Like he really doesn’t know what this is doing to me. He pours another.
"Oh, is that for me?"
I had to do something. Boys. Why do they always manage to freeze like that? And we have to do everything. So not cool. And yet, those arms? So very cool. And the boy can dress. He’s had lessons. That’s not a male’s natural state. Me on the other hand? It may take hours, like these stilettos, or days, you should see this halter top I’ve got on, but I will keep on. I know what to look for. And that would be him. Come on, bubba. Your move.
She smells like cinnamon. And mere inches away. I can touch her. Ok, I could touch her. I don’t. I offer her the shot instead. She accepts, and those nails sort of scratch my fingers. Nice. So nice. Oh, did I mention that? Yeah. I need to say something. Something cool. What’s cool?
"So uh, you have a watch or something?" Oh shut up. It used to go down really well. Sure, it was middle school. But things don’t cange that much in ten yers, do they?
A watch? With this belt? Right. So he’s not perfect. Like that’s a shocker. I’m not kicking him out of bed yet. I pull out my cell.
"10:42. PM. You late for something?"
"What?" Where’d that come from? Why are girls always pushing what you say way out of proportion? "Oh, no. It’s just…" Just what? I’m such a dork. And she’s such a… yeah.
"Curfew, huh?" I’m joking. I hope he can tell. Does sarcasm penetrate when you’re trashed? It had better. I could use a little help here.
"Ha ha. So hey, My name's Adam. It's a pleasure, I must say."
He's grinning. Comfort level rising. Stress level falling. This is working. "You’re kidding! My friends are always teasing me about meeting an Adam. I get it a lot. Never from a real Adam though. You’re my first." That got through all right. Like I didn’t see that coming. "See, my name is Eve."
Eve. That sounds familiar. Do I know an Eve from somewhere?
It’s not registering. This is worse than I thought. So much fo progress.
"Oh! Eve! I get it. Sorry, I get a little slow sometimes."
"Bars will do that to you." Now that was a good line. If all words added up to good lines like that all by themselves, we'd be dandy forever and always.
"So Eve, is that your real name, or are you making fun of me?" Why is talking so much easier when it comes in the middle of a conversation?
"Adam, would I do something like that?" The tease wasn't too heavy in there was it? A little thick maybe? Apparently not. He's still mired down in his liquor.
"Good question. I’ll have to investigate before I answer that." Investigate? Oh wouldn't I love an investigation. Keep your fingers crossed, k? I mean, she looks like she's up for it, but you know how girls are... wait, women, how women are. Yeah.
"Uh oh. This sounds serious. Am I in trouble? Do you have a pair of handcuffs I don’t know about?"
Wait a minute. She must be doing this on purpose. Right? This isn’t a conversation. This is completely different. It’s called flirting. I should have noticed sooner. I haven’t had that much to drink have I? Anyway, flirting. Forward ho!
"Sorry Miss. That’s confidential. I could tell you but…"
And I’ve got him. Like pulling teeth. When are they going to come up with an easier model? "That serious, huh? Looks like I should be pleading no contest."
"As your attorney, I must advise against trying that sober. Why don’t I buy you a drink?"
Thirteen minutes and twenty nine seconds. Bingo!
posted by Sarah Eliza @ 4:35 PM
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