Once upon a time I went to a party. A boy that I liked from acting class was going to be there. He kind of looked like Edward Scissorhands, which is one of my types. I didn’t know anyone else at the party except for the host, who kind of had a Russell Brand thing going on. Rarely do I attend parties alone but I put on my big girl heels and sped off in my mini cooper.
I got there and shamelessly hit on Edward Scissorhands guy. He was slightly receptive. We spoke of F. Scott Fitzgerald (love) and Nirvana (don’t). He was not pleased that I did not love NIrvana. I just don’t get them. I’m sorry readers. I hope this doesn’t make you hate me but if it does, whatever. I just don’t get their sound. And cheer up, Kurt. Lennon did moody so much better than you. And he was so awesome that someone other than himself wanted to kill him. (Oh shit, too soon? God, I’m sorry.)
We sat on the couch. I did most of the talking. “Now is the part where you’re supposed to ask me out,” I said during a silence. “Oh.” He offered to take me for a drink to The Other Room. By “offered” I mean, he mentioned that The Other Room existed. “I’m going to go over there,” he said, and got up. Well, that’s probably not what he actually said. He probably said something like, “I’m going to go smoke/get a drink/get some hummus/etc” but it was basically like that scene in The Simpsons (BUT WHAT ISN’T) when Bart’s crush says, “Um, I have to go…stand over there…now” and walks a few feet away just for the sake of avoiding him. I sat there on the couch.
Then I looked over. There was a boy sitting awkwardly on the arm of the couch. His hair was in his eyes. That’s also one of my types. I think I said hi. I’m pretty sure that he said hi. The next thing I knew, we were talking a lot and he was staring right at me. That’s when I noticed that he kind of looked like James Franco, before James Franco looked like a thrift store leather chair. One great thing was that no matter what I said, he wanted to hear more. That was quite a difference from Edward Scissorhands guy. “Would you like to go outside for a cigarette?” He asked. No. I don’t smoke. I think smoking is the best way to look ugly in ten years. “Yes,” I said.
We went outside. It was outside that he realized that he had no cigarettes. He looked sheepish. “I’ll find some,” he said. And I stood there awkwardly while he awkwardly asked for cigarettes. He found some. He smoked his, I pretended to smoke mine, and we smiled and stared at each other. I liked his smile a whole lot. He mentioned that he just broke up with his ex-girlfriend. “Well,” I said, “You can always kill yourself.” He laughed. “I could just jump now, over this ledge,” he said. We looked over the ledge. “Hey,” he said, pointing. “There’s someone watching TV in there, next door.”
After a lot more staring, jokes about jumping off of things, and nervous giggling, I wanted to head inside and get my purse. I was thinking I should leave while I was still ahead. He followed me. He helped me find my bag in the closet and he asked for my phone number. I wrote it down on a discarded side from acting class that I found in my purse while he took out his cell phone ready to put in my number. I felt dumb. I forget about technology sometimes. But I still insisted on writing down my number. “And here’s my name,” I added, “In case you want to add me on facebook. I don’t know what the kids are doing these days.” Then I thought he was going to kiss me and I got nervous so I said, “Hey, you wanna go over these scene with me from acting class?” And we read it out loud. Then we stared at each other. I got nervous again and said, “I’m going to go now.” “I’ll walk you out.”
We headed for the door and someone called his name. “I’ll be right back,” he said. I waited. I got impatient. I remembered what Brigitte Bardot said: “Don’t get left. You leave. You decide.” I decided to leave. I was slightly annoyed. I was also slightly annoyed that Edward Scissorhands guy left earlier in the evening and didn’t even tell me. I was slightly done. Everything was in slight. No full opinions had been weighed except for the one that I wanted to leave while I thought I was still desirable. So I left. I didn’t think I would hear from the cute guy with the hair in his face.
But the next day, I did.
To be continued…probably…