Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

my Hellz short story for July.   click here to read the rest:  Enjoy!  
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
Part 5

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell – pt 3

Posted by raaachem on 15th July 2010

10:43 and I take my first shot of Crown.  With a water back.  (Who the fuck does that?!)    Three minutes later and I take my second.  Fuck, this tastes like shit.

The music is bumpin, my feet don’t hurt yet and I just checked my coat.  My girls and I head to the bathroom to fix our lipstick and gossip. 

And then I see him.   12:04 am.   How long has he been here?  How long have I not noticed him?   Damn he’s lookin’ MIGHTY dapper in his button up.  I open the door to the bathroom and freak the fuck out.   My girls notice my obvious awkwardness as I try to apply my lipstick – and do it wrong about 4 times.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“HE’s here.”
“And again.  What the fuck is wrong with you?  Just go say hi.”

They’re right.  I’ll just go over there and say hi. 
Nice to see you. 
Fancy seeing you here. 
Can I buy you a drink?
Something like that.  Something that doesn’t make me sound like a bonafide lunatic or a loser.   I’m not sure which is worse.

12:10 am.  We walk out of the bar and my eyes immediately go to the spot I saw him last.   Nada.   I quickly scan the room in search of him while I still have the balls to actually say something to him.   Nothing.    Cool.  I can go on with my night.

12:28 and my girl whispers to me.
“He’s at the bar.  GO.”  
Fuck.  I turn around to the bar and sure enough, there he is.   Hectic insides are the DEATH OF ME.   I grab my girl’s Adios, take it to the face and run to the bathroom to make sure I haven’t already turned into a sloppy drunken wench.   Beer goggles on, I’m still lookin’ fly as fuck.   Here I go.

At exactly 12:32 I walk out of the bathroom and he’s still there.  One foot in front of the other till I get there as I’m rehearsing different ways to say “Hey.”   And then I hear it.  A small voice, calling him a really cutesy form of his name–which any self-respecting man would NEVER allow himself to be called in public unless… of course…it was… his girlfriend.   In the flesh.  Standing right next to him like she came out of his pocket.   

12:36 and we’re already in the car, leaving.  My girl starts the car.. “That place was wack anyway.  Where we going next?”   
“Drop me off in hell,” I say. “Oh wait, I’m already there.”  

Fuck my fucking life.

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