I STOOD AT THE FOOT OF MY BED AND FOLDED MY ARMS ACROSS MY CHEST. I WAS DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT I SHOULD TAKE THE MATTRESS HEATER OFF OF MY BED.
OFF, I DECIDED, PERHAPS HE'D BE MORE COMFORTABLE THAT WAY. I GRIPPED THE MATTRESS HEATER AND RIPPED IT OFF OF MY BED BEFORE STUFFING IT INTO MY CLOSET, THEN PULLED OUT CLEAN SHEETS.
TONIGHT WAS WHAT HAD KEPT MY MIND OCCUPIED DURING THIS TEDIOUS WEEK. TONIGHT, DANIEL WAS COMING OVER.
IT WAS GOING TO BE OUR FIRST "ADULT SLEEPOVER". DANIEL LIKED TO TAKE THINGS SLOW... SNAIL SLOW. LIKE A DRY SLUG SLIDING DOWN YOUR WINDPIPE ON A SUMMER DAY SLOW. WE HAD BEEN ON AT LEAST SIX DATES AND SO FAR I HAD ONLY RECEIVED A PECK OF A KISS GOODBYE. HE'S 27.
I MET DANIEL ONLINE. I WAS EXTREMELY BLASE ABOUT MEETING UP WITH HIM. I HONESTLY DIDN'T CARE WHETHER WE MET UP OR NOT, BUT HE CREATED A SPONTANEOUS LUNCH DATE AND WORKED A BLOCK AWAY FROM ME - SO WHY NOT.
IF THIS COUNTED AS OUR FIRST "DATE" IT WAS A BAD ONE. WE MET AT THE CORNER OF 27TH STREET AND 6TH AVENUE BEFORE WALKING TO NUM PANG - MY FAVORITE LUNCH SPOT. AS SOON AS HE SPOKE I REALIZED THIS WAS NOT WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR.
DANIEL IS CUTE. CUTE LIKE THE NERDY BOY WHO BLUSHES WHEN YOU SMILE AT HIM. CUTE LIKE THE CARD YOUR MOM SENT YOU IN THE MAIL LAST WEEK. CUTE LIKE THE NEIGHBORS KID HOLDING THE DOOR FOR YOU. CUTE.
DANIEL IS SIX FOOT TWO - THE PERFECT MALE HEIGHT. HE HAS LIGHT BROWN HAIR, THE COLOR OF A SEPIA-TONED PICTURE. HIS TEETH ARE CROOKED AND HE HAS THE BEGINNINGS OF A MUSTACHE. HE WEARS SWEATSHIRTS UNDER MEMBERS ONLY COATS, SHOVING HIS HANDS IN HIS LIGHT-WASH JEAN POCKETS AND STARING DOWN AT HIS HYBRID NIKE/HIKING BOOT SHOES.HE'S CUTE.
I TALKED THE ENTIRE WAY TO NUM PANG. I COULDN'T TELL IF HE HATED ME, OR TRULY COULDN'T SPIT UP A COHESIVE SENTENCE. THERE WAS NO LINE AT NUM PANG, WHICH FORCED US TO ORDER QUICKLY. FOUR CASHIERS STARED IMPATIENTLY AT US AS WE AWKWARDLY DISCUSSED THE MENU:
"I ALWAYS GET THE ROASTED CHICKEN RICE BOWL WITH JASMINE RICE."
"WHAT ABOUT THE PORK?"
"I HATE PORK."
I GOT IMPATIENT AND ORDERED MY USUAL, PAYING FOR MY OWN MEAL BEFORE STANDING TO THE SIDE. HE ORDERED AND SLID NEXT TO ME, SILENT. WE STOOD - SILENT.
LUNCH WAS NOTHING SPECIAL. WE ATE AND WALKED BACK TO OUR OFFICES, HUGGING GOODBYE. I SAID I HOPED TO SEE HIM AGAIN, BUT I LEFT BARELY REMEMBERING WHAT HE LOOKED LIKE.
"HE WAS FINE, I DON'T KNOW. REALLY SHY. SUPER SOCIALLY AWKWARD." I RECOUNTED MY LUNCH DATE TO MY FRIEND THAT NIGHT.
"WAS HE NICE?"
"YEAH. BUT HE DOESN'T TALK."
"YOU SHOULD SEE HIM AGAIN. GIVE IT A CHANCE."
I SAW HIM AGAIN. HE ASKED ME TO LUNCH A FEW DAYS LATER. I ROLLED MY EYES AT THE PROSPECT OF ANOTHER LUNCH DATE BEFORE TELLING HIM I WAS 0N A DIET. GUYS HATE THAT RIGHT? YES, DANIEL, I'M ON A DIET. I'M TRYING TO LOSE THIRTY POUNDS.
HE SUGGESTS SMOOTHIES. (WHO HAS EVER DRUNKEN A SMOOTHIE AND THOUGHT "MY GOD I AM SO FULL." NO ONE, THAT'S WHO).
WE MEET ON THE PREVIOUS CORNER AGAIN, HUGGING AWKWARDLY BEFORE STROLLING IN AND OUT OF GLOBS OF SUNSHINE. HE'S SHIVERING. ITS ENDEARING.
WE ORDER SMOOTHIES. HE SEEMS HAPPIER THIS TIME, MORE SMILEY. WE SIT BY THE WINDOW, PEOPLE WATCHING. I FIND MYSELF ENJOYING HIS COMPANY - AN UNEXPECTED PLEASANTRY. WE JOKE AROUND BEFORE HEADING BACK TO OUR CHELSEA OFFICES. I SMILE WHEN WE PART WAYS, HE'S ACTUALLY SORT OF CUTE - AND THIS TIME HE PAID FOR MY "LUNCH".
"TWO SPICY LADIES FOR TWO SPICY LADIES." HE MUMBLES.
I LAUGH INVOLUNTARILY. WE ARE AT THE JUICE SHOP AGAIN, ORDERING SMOOTHIES. (I'VE LOST SEVEN POUNDS). THIS TIME I WAS EXCITED TO SEE HIM. WE BUMPED HIPS AT THE REGISTER, PLAYFULLY TOUCHING LIKE PRE-PUBESCENT TEENS. I WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN.
WE GO TO DINNER ON A TUESDAY NIGHT. HE ASKS WHAT I WANT AND I SAY MEXICAN. WE GO TO A SMALL RESTAURANT ON FOURTEENTH STREET AND SEVENTH AVENUE, I DON'T REMEMBER THE NAME. WE SIT DOWN. ITS REALLY LOUD. I MAKE A JOKE ABOUT BEING DEAF. IT ISN'T FUNNY. HE LAUGHS POLITELY.
WE ORDER DINNER, BUT FIRST I ASK FOR A MARGARITA. OR TWO. DINNER GOES BY QUICKLY, AND I FIND MYSELF WANTING TO STAY BY HIS SIDE. I WANT TO FEEL HIS POINTER FINGER. ITS INVITING IN THE CANDLE LIGHT. I JUST WANT TO GRAB IS NOSE. I'M DRUNK. I GRABBED HIS NOSE. I'M DRUNK.
WE LEAVE THE RESTAURANT. HE PUTS HIS ARM AROUND ME. ITS HEAVY ON MY SHOULDERS. I SLING MY ARM AROUND HIS WAIST. HE LIVES IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD, ALONE.
"WANNA HANG OUT?" I ASK, WANTING TO TASTE HIS LIPS.
"MAYBE NEXT TIME." HE ANSWERS. SILENT.
I'M GRUMPY. HE NOTICES. I'M STILL GRUMPY. WHY WOULD A MAN REJECT SPENDING TIME WITH ME? ESPECIALLY AT NIGHT? HE SAYS MY NAME. I LOOK AT HIM, HE KISSES ME. I LEAN INTO HIS KISS, WRAPPING MY ARMS AROUND HIS WAIST. I FEEL SMALL. MY HEAD IS AS HIGH AS HIS CHEST. ITS NICE. I WANT TO KISS MORE, BUT HE LEAVES ME.
NOW I'M TEXTING HIM FIRST. I'M ASKING WHEN HE'S FREE. AND WE AGREE TO DINNER FRIDAY NIGHT. ITS TONIGHT.
"WHEN CAN WE KISS FOR REAL?" I ASK.
"TONIGHT, YOUR BED." HE REPLIES. I FREEZE. SUDDENLY, I FEEL LIKE I'M NOT READY FOR ANYTHING BUT TEENAGE ROMANCE.
"OKAY, BUT I DON'T WANT TO HAVE SEX." WORDS THAT I DON'T SAY OFTEN. I'M NERVOUS, AND I WANT HIM TO REALLY LIKE ME.
"THAT'S FINE, BUT I WANT TO EAT YOU OUT A LITTLE BIT. IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE, NO PRESSURE." NOT COMFORTABLE? LADY HEAD? FOR FREE?
"WE'LL SEE."
I TEXT MY ON-GOING FLING, "HI. IS SHAVING MY VAGINA COMPLETELY PRE-PUBESCENT?"
"HI SHELBS. NO. THOUGH I DID HOOK UP WITH THIS ONE CHICK WHO HAD A LANDING STRIP AND IT WAS FUCKING HOT."
"THAT'S WHAT I HAVE RIGHT NOW BUT I'M NOT SURE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT MEN LIKE."
"HAHA." DAMMIT. WHY CAN'T ANYONE ASSIST HERE? IT'S LIKE I'M LOSING MY ORAL SEX VIRGINITY FOR THE FIRST TIME.
I'M ANTSY. I CAN'T WANT TO SEE HIM. I LEAVE WORK TWENTY MINUTES EARLY AND RUSH HOME AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT. EVERYONE IS IN MY WAY.
I JUMP INTO THE SHOWER. I SHAVE (ALMOST) EVERYTHING. I SMELL LIKE ROSE-PEDALS. I DRY OFF SO QUICKLY ITS LIKE I'VE GONE THOUGH THE CAR WASH AND USED THE GIANT BLOW DRIERS. I DO MY MAKE-UP AND HE'S TEXTING ME THAT HE'S LEAVING WORK. HE'LL BE IN BUSHWICK IN THIRTY MINUTES.
I BRUSH MY TEETH. I DEBATE LINGERIE. I HAVE ON BLACK. I TAKE THEM OFF. HE'S SO INNOCENT I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD WEAR NUDE UNDERWEAR. SEEMS A LITTLE LESS RISQUE. I GET DRESSED. I WEAR HEELS. I WEAR A FURRY BLACK COAT. I PUT ON LIPSTICK. I LOOK CUTE. I PRACTICALLY SKIP TO JEFFERSON TO MEET HIM.
THE LINE IS TOO LONG. WE GO TO GET AREPAS INSTEAD. I DON'T CARE. I JUST WANT TO BE AROUND HIM. I ASK TO HOLD HIS HAND. HE PRESSES IT TO MINE AND OUR FINGERS FUMBLE. HE GOES TO CUP AND FOLD, I GO TO INTERLACE. WE LAUGH AND I BLUSH AND WE KEEP WALKING. WE SIT. WE ORDER FOOD. SILENT.
NOW HE'S MAD. HE'S MAD BECAUSE HE WAS TELLING A REALLY BORING SCIENCE FICTION STORY. MY DAD IS SUPER INTO SCIENCE FICTION AND THAT'S CUTE, I GET IT, BUT MY EXPERIENCE STARTS AT RIDDICK AND ENDS AT THE MATRIX. HE'S STILL GOING. THE WAITER BRINGS MY ALCOHOL AND DANIEL IS STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS FUCKING ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. I START ZONING OUT LIKE WHEN MY DAD TALKS ABOUT FINANCES. I'M REALLY FUCKING TRYING TO LISTEN, BUT ITS LIKE APPLESAUCE ENTERING MY EAR DRUMS. I START LISTENING TO THE SPANISH CONVERSATIONS AROUND ME, ADMIRING THE WAITRESSES PINK HAIR,
HE'S DONE. HE'S DONE TELLING THE FUCKING STORY THANK GOD. I JUMP INTO ANOTHER CONVERSATION - ANYTHING - SO THAT WE CAN MOVE ON. I BRING UP THE WRONG TOPIC. HE CALLS MY POINT OF VIEW "SELFISH" AND I'M TAKEN ABACK. I ALMOST PHYSICALLY TIP OUT OF MY CHAIR.
SELFISH? ABOUT SOME THINGS YES, BUT I HAPPEN TO BE THE MOST LOYAL HUMAN BEING IN NEW YORK. IF I LOVE SOMEONE, THERE IS NOTHING I WOULDN'T DO FOR THEM. SELFISH? WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS. AND I'M MAD.
I'M FUCKING PISSED. AND 2015 SHELBY WANTS TO STUFF HIS AREPA INTO HIS MOUTH TO SHUT HIM UP. I TAKE FIVE MINUTES. I BREATHE. I LET THE FRONT DOOR OPEN TWICE BEFORE I OPEN MY MOUTH.
"HEY, THAT WASN'T COOL. YOU HURT MY FEELINGS AND I THINK THAT'S RUDE." I TRY NOT TO EXPLODE. WE MOVE ON. THE CHECK COMES AND HE PAYS. WE LEAVE THE RESTAURANT, AND I'M REFILLED WITH THE ETERNAL HAPPINESS OF HAVING A CRUSH.
"WANNA GO GET DRINKS? OR DO YOU WANNA COME OVER?" I'M ALREADY WARNING MY ROOMMATE VIA TEXT MESSAGE AS I WAIT FOR HIS RESPONSE.
"ACTUALLY, I'M GOING TO GO HOME." SILENT.
I COCK MY HEAD. I SHAKE MY HEAD, "WHAT?"
"YEAH, I'M SORRY." SILENT.
"... DID I DO SOMETHING WRONG?"
"NO, I JUST FEEL LIKE THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK OUT."
"????" I REACT
"YEAH I JUST FEEL LIKE... YOU'RE THE ONLY GIRL I'M SEEING AND YOU'RE THE ONLY GIRL I WANTED TO SEE. I'M SUPER ATTRACTED TO YOU, BUT I WANT THE GIRL I'M SEEING TO BE INTO THE SAME THINGS AS ME. SCIENCE FICTION, BOARD GAMES, THOSE ARE REALLY IMPORTANT TO ME."
I STAND VERY STILL. IF I STAND THIS STILL, WILL I DISAPPEAR LIKE DOBBY? CAN I SNAP MY FINGERS AND EVAPORATE IN ORDER TO COME BACK AND DROP CAKE ON HIS HEAD?
"OKAY, I'LL WALK YOU TO THE TRAIN."
"YEAH?" HE ASKS, SURPRISED.
"YEAH." SILENT. WE WALK. WE PASS MARIA HERNANDEZ PARK. SILENT. I BUILD UP THE COURAGE TO ATTEMPT TO DEFEND MYSELF.
"I DON'T THINK YOU GAVE ME MUCH OF A CHANCE, BUT I RESPECT YOUR DECISION. THE TRAIN IS A BLOCK THAT WAY, I'M THIS WAY," I POINT DOWN THE STREET, "SEE YA." I SAY QUIETLY, PATTING HIS TUMMY BEFORE WANDERING AWAY.
MY THROAT IS RAW. ITS RAW LIKE WHEN YOU WAKE UP FROM A HARD-CORE NAP AND ITS LIKE YOU'VE SLEPT IN THE DESERT WITH YOUR MOUTH OPEN FOR FORTY DAYS WITH JESUS. THAT'S HOW RAW MY THROAT IS, AND NOW THERE IS A KNOT IN THERE. THERE IS A KNOT IN THERE AND ITS CAUSING SALT WATER TO WANT TO DRIP OUT OF MY EYES. SALT WATER IS DRIPPING OUT OF MY EYES AND I PLOP DOWN ON MY COUCH.
"ARE YOU FINE?" MY STONED ROOMMATE CALLS FROM THE KITCHEN.
I CRY. I STRIP OUT OF MY COAT AND MY SHOES, DROP MY PURSE AND PEEL OFF MY SOCKS. I UN-DO THE TOP BUTTON ON MY JEANS.
"HE DUMPED ME!" I CRY.
"AW, SHELBY, THAT HAPPENS WHEN A GUY JUST ISN'T THAT INTO YOU."
"I THINK HE WAS INTO ME."
"YEAH, BUT MAYBE NOT."
"YEAH, I GUESS YOUR RIGHT." I PACK A BOWL, I SMOKE THE BOWL. I PACK IT AGAIN, I SMOKE IT AGAIN. I WRITE A PARAGRAPH, AND I SNIFFLE MYSELF TO BED.
ITS WEDNESDAY. I CRAVE CHIPOTLE. I'M WAITING IN LINE IN MY FAVORITE PINK JACKET. THIS JACKET COST A LOT OF MONEY AND I ALMOST THREATENED THIS WOMAN'S LIFE ON THE TRAIN THIS MORNING WHEN SHE SPILLED A DROP OF FUCKING GREEN FUCKING JUICE ON MY COAT. ANYWAYS.
I'M AT CHIPOTLE AND IN WALKS DANIEL. IN WALKS FUCKING DANIEL. AND HE SEES ME. AND HE PRETENDS HE DOESN'T SEE ME. AND HE HEADS TO THE BACK OF THE LINE. AND HE WAITS. AND HE AVOIDS ME. AND I LEAVE. I LEAVE AND I THINK ABOUT WHAT A SHITHEAD HE IS. HE WALKED INTO CHIPOTLE AND I FROZE. I FROZE. AND THEN TURNED AROUND BECAUSE I SMELLED HIM. HE WALKED IN AND IT SMELLED LIKE DANIEL. IT SMELLED LIKE AN OLD BOOK AND A WARM SWEATER. IT SMELLED LIKE DANIEL. IT SMELLED LIKE MY GRANDPAS CHINESE CHECKERS AND THE BLUE AMERICAN SPIRITS.