Diaries Magazine
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
It had been a pretty typical Thursday. A relatively quiet day that ended with a fitness assessment at the gym. I walked out to my car, hopped in and headed home. Much to my surprise, the phone did not ring with Office Boy on the other line during the drive.
Around 6:30, I still hadn't heard from him, which was quite abnormal. As I walked into the Chipotle, I pulled out my phone and settled in for what was going to be a very long wait.
Please tell me you're not still at work, I texted. (side note: He had been stuck in the office until 6:45 the night before.)
I looked at the line and sighed. I wasn't sure if I wanted to wait so long for food, but I really wanted Chipotle. I resigned myself to wait and figured I at least had my phone to keep me entertained. A minute later, it buzzed.
Nope. I'm home.
Ok, good. I didn't get a call from you so I thought you might still be stuck in the office.
You were at work late.
No, I wasn't.
You were still there when I left.
I went to the gym afterward.
I went over there to find you but I didn't see you.
I had a fitness assessment today, so I was in the office with the trainer.
Oh. Well, I tried.
It's okay. It's sweet. You should've called though.
Your car was still there when I left, so I thought you were busy. I wanted to though.
I smiled. What a sweetheart.
I like calling you, he said.
Well, that's good. Because I like when you call.
Yay!
I chuckled to myself. Goofball.
So what are you doing?
Waiting in line at Chipotle.
Which Chipotle?
The one in Springfield.
I don't know where that one is.
It's right by the mixing bowl, on Old Keene Mill.
I still don't know where that is. :'(
Why are you crying?
Because I don't know anything.
That's not true. You just don't know my city. If you asked me a question about something in your city, I probably wouldn't know where it was.
Royal* Street.
Well, of course I know where that is. I was near there just the other day.
For what?
..umm. I was at your apartment?
Oh, yea. Sometimes I'm kind of dumb.
All I could do was laugh.
We continued to text back and forth as I waited in line at Chipotle...for 40 minutes. Yep. That's right. A 40 minute wait. Twenty minutes in I should've just given up, but I was already so far. And I had already wasted 20 minutes. Leaving would've just been even more of a waste. Anyway. I digress.
Finally, around 7:15, I headed home, Chipotle in hand and settled in front of the TV for watch some How I Met Your Mother.
So what are you up to tonight? I asked.
Watching How I Met Your Mother.
Hah. Why am I not surprised?
How about you?
Same.
We discussed which episode he was on, in comparison to where I was, with him occasionally texting exclamations as major plot points occurred. He sent one message and then a second, immediately after it. I read it and I felt an immediate combination of confusion and what-the-heck...if that's even an emotion.
I read it again, just to be sure. And I had read it right.
Hey, so would you be interested in going on a date with a friend of mine?
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Check back Friday for the next installment in The Saga of Office Boy!
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