The Beginning | Facts About Myself | Don't Mess With An English Major | The Bake SaleThe Favor | The Rescue | The Brothel | The Number | The Wrist, Part One | The Wrist, Part TwoThe Sighting | The Question | The Concern | The Explanation | The Star Wars Debate The Phone Call | The Holiday Thursday | The Rain Check | The First Freak Out | The TwistThe Second Freak Out | The Clarification | The Confusion | The Awkward ConversationThe Accident | The Show, Part One | The Show, Part Two | The Birthday Dinner | The MoveThe Other Guy | The Final Freak Out | The Reflections | The Friday Night Date The Monthaversary | The Beginning (as explained by Office Boy)
The Twist (as explained by Office Boy) | The Second Freak Out (as explained by Office Boy)
The Clarification (as explained by Office Boy) | The Second Freak Out (from the outside)
The Confusion (as explained by Office Boy) | The Pancake Mix Fiasco
The Awkward Conversation (as explained by Office Boy) | The Accident (as explained by Office Boy)
The day had finally arrived. My Bestie and I had stressed and planned and replanned and reorganized and called this person and that person and the day was finally here. (It's weird to me, not in a bad way, that she calls her best friend her "Bestie." Guys do not have these nicknames that borderline on kid vocabulary. My guy friends I call "friends." This must be a foreign concept to writers as this is only one word. There is apparently much I need to learn about how to convey information.)
No. It wasn't a wedding. It really wasn't even something that important. (I think it was important -- hindsight being 20/20.) <editor's note>Yes, now knowing what was to come, I would say it turned out to be rather important.</editor's note> We were just going to see a show. The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, to be exact. (There were more erections than expected in this show -- on stage, not from any participating parties...) <editor's note>If you don't know what Putnam is about, this isn't going to make a whole of sense.</editor's note>
The ticket holders had changed more times than we could count. The restaurant options had been throw out, approved and later rejected at the last minute. But we were finally good and set. Five of the six tickets were definitely claimed with another person working to find a sixth ticket holder. Four of us were to meet for dinner prior to the show.(Life is too complex to be able to pinpoint what you will be doing at a specific time, especially if you forget to tell Sarah that you invited your neighbor... I'm not always checked into my brain.)
Around 3pm, I sent Office Boy a text to let him know that our dinner reservation had changed from 5:30 to 6pm. No response.(I was probably working at 3. I do that a lot. You'd think I was super important, but alas I am not. Just there is too much work for one person to do in one 8-hour day. So I'm the sucker that does it in 15.) <editor's note>Considering we went to see the show on Saturday...I'd say it was a pretty safe bet you weren't working. -.o<editor's note>
Around 4:30, I called, to confirm that he had gotten the text and knew the reservation had changed. I got voicemail. (Probably at work, and potentially the gym.)
I texted my Bestie and told her what was going on. Around 5:15, I still hadn't heard from him, so I headed out, deciding I would just meet up with Bestie and walk to the restaurant with her if I didn't hear from Office Boy. As I drove, he called me back. (I always call back.)
"Hey," he said."Hey," I said. "Did you get my text and voicemail?" (Office Boy Note: She did not proof read this sentence.) <editor's note>But it's fixed now...so there.</editor's note>"Yeah. I was sleeping. Sorry." (Or sleeping. I do that a lot, too. I work a lot, so I must sleep a lot.)"Not a problem. So do you want me to meet you at your apartment or at the restaurant?""I'm gonna walk over with Alex*, so you can just meet at the restaurant." (I don't know what it is about this fake name, but I feel like it suits the actual person. Better than the last one anyway."Wait...Alex is coming?" (See previous comment.)"Yeah.""I thought you said he was out of town this weekend.""No. He's here.""Did you invite him to the show, too?""Yeah.""Why didn't you tell me? We assumed we still had an extra ticket because you hadn't found another guy to take it. Bestie is having the girl who took the fifth ticket find someone else to come." (Why didn't I? Because I'm a guy, and I thought you would have understood this by my grunting. Duh...)"Oh. Well, he can at least come to dinner." (I try not to let things phase me too much, which I'd say is a difference that Sarah and I have. Don't get me wrong, she's not panicky about anything, but I think I'm more accepting of the unexpected.)"Yeah. And we might still have the ticket. I don't know if we've actually found a sixth yet. Let me call Bestie and I'll get back to you."
After a quick, somewhat panicked conversation with my Bestie, (...maybe panicky was a good word...) we determined that we did, indeed, still have the sixth ticket. So we were safe. *phew* That was a close one. ([in Jeff Goldblum voice from Jurassic Park] "Life finds a way...")
I drove to Office Boy's apartment complex where I met him and Alex. We walked the few blocks to the restaurant where we waited for Bestie and her other friend to show up. The food was delicious, though the atmosphere was strange. Everyone seemed in a weird mood and it was super loud, making it difficult to hear even the person sitting next to you. We finished dinner and walked the few blocks to the theatre, meeting the last of our party, and making it just in time to get seated and situated before the show began. (Note to you readers: I'm not necessarily shy, but I don't feel it necessary for me to speak if I feel that others are already having enough of a good conversation. That said, I wasn't too boisterous (as I sometimes am) during dinner. I pretender to watch basketball -- I don't care much for basketball. I guess I was nervous to be around Sarah and her friends. Brain was probably keeping me quiet because it would eventually matter to me what her friends' opinions were. I swear, if you go back through my nonsensical ramblings about this saga, my theory about my brain being separate from my conscious is accurate.)
A couple of hours later, the show (which was hilarious, by the way) concluded (One embarrassing erection later... Not me, it was part of the show... wait...) and we all went our separate ways. Bestie out with her brother and the cast. The two other ladies to previous evening plans. Office Boy, Alex, and I back to their apartment complex. Office Boy and I said goodnight to Alex and went in to his apartment and sat down.
"Did you have fun?" I asked."Yeah. I did," he said.
There was a pause.
"Why don't you like it when people call you cute and adorable?" he asked. (She's so cute and adorable you kind of just want to hug her. It's an un-describable trait she has. [Don't fix my spelling. I know it's indescribable, but it's so indescribable I made up a word.])
I sighed. Here we go.
"It's not that I don't like it. It just irks me in certain situations. When you said it the other day, it made me feel like a little kid, and that's hard when we work together. I don't mind being considered cute. It happens when you're my size. (SHE'S ITTY BITTY!!!) But I feel like people don't take me seriously and forget that, in spite of my size, I am a grown woman and I would like to be treated as such.""Oh. I'm sorry," he said. "I'll try to remember that. (I apparently didn't try hard enough, as evidenced by what I just wrote...) And I don't think of you as a little kid."
We turned on Star Trek, which I had never seen before. (Funny story about Stark Trek [not on topic]. I have this really bright red shirt, which Sarah thinks looks lovely on me -- so it's okay that I bring up this story. So, I work with a bunch of older folks who used to watch the Star Trek show when it was in syndication. When I wear this shirt, they tell me I can't go on away missions [because red shirt-ers never came back]. Which is actually a poignant reference, because tonight is the night I actually stepped over any lines that I have before with Sarah, and never came back. *Double Star Trek Meaning High Five* [no regrets]) As I watched, I sat there trying to figure out how to kindly say, You need to man up or we can't do this anymore. I don't do this back and forth. Sorry, bud. But how to bring that up? I had no idea. (Because you shouldn't have to bring it up.) So I waited.
As the movie progressed, he began to relax and got more comfortable. Occasionally he would reach his hand up and caress my cheek, turning my head just enough that our faces were only inches apart. (I was working my magic... I have magic... who said I didn't?!)
What the hell is going on? This is not normal friend behavior. He has got to know what he's doing. I just...I don't...ahhh!! (Wait for it...)
The movie finished and we sat in silence.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked. (I knew what she was thinking about. I was thinking it, too.)"Nothing," I said. "It's not important." What I'm really thinking is are you gonna keep coming within inches of my face and turning away or are you ever gonna work up the nerve to kiss me?"Oh, come on.""No, really. It's nothing," I said. "What are you thinking about?" (This is the girl go-to. "What are YOU thinking about"?)"That's not fair. I asked you first!""But it's not important. So what are you thinking?""Ladies first.""Nope. It's not important."
He grew silent and we sat there for a few minutes. (It was a few LONG seconds.)
"So what are you thinking about?" I asked again.
He didn't say anything at first. I waited. He leaned in and kissed me. (Congratulations. Level completed. Collect 10 points for Manning Up.)
Got a question for me or Office Boy? Leave a comment here or send questions to [email protected]. We'll be answering all your questions in a Q&A post on Tuesday, May 29, so all questions much be submitted by Sunday, May 27. It can be a question for me, for him, or for the two of us as a couple. It can be about us as a couple, about our individual little quirks, or what our favorite color is. It's completely up to you. So send them all in!
----------Check back Friday for the next post in The Saga of Office Boy!
Like what you're reading? Consider liking me on Facebook or following me on Twitter!
*Names changed.
