Write on your cellphone
He was like one of those movies you were so excited about to see in theatres at one point and now you see the DVD in WalMart and wonder how bad it had to be to be below your radar until now. He was a good ish looking, I guess. He had a kind of “charm.” To be honest it’s so hard to make a judgement call on someone that you just are so far from being into. Like making a judgement call on one of your siblings.
I saw him at a book store, in those awful “stylish” scarves, jeans rolled up right above his ankles, and a grey v-neck. I wanted to slap the bullshit out of his clothes. He spotted me, leaning and staring, putting the lines to dots. I couldn’t run now. Well I could, but I didn’t.
“Amy!” And he smiled and waved at me. Didn’t even bother to get up, but I admired his outgoing yell in the middle of a BOOKSTORE.
Soon I was beside him at his little stupid window seat, his sweet coffee probably left to get cold or was cold all along.
“how have you been?” He asked, folding his hands on his lap and leaning back, eyes all over me
“shit. Nothing new.” He frowned for a moment and I swear to god that when he picked up his apple phone I thought his case would have a fucking cat on it, but it was just plain blue.
“I don’t have you on facebook.” He said aimlessly. I didn’t say anything back to him because that wasn’t a fucking request was it. Go back and fucking read the lack of “huh” symbol.
I needed to pick a book in here, I remembered. A famous author was coming to do a reading at this blues poetry place and I needed a copy of her book. Now normally I’m not a fan of pretentious posh shit like poetry places or authors and getting autographs, but I read an excerpt of her book and feel in love
“instagram?” He offered suddenly loudly over my thoughts. I realize I was staring out the window and returned my faze to him and he was scrolling on his phone, eyes fixed there. That one was a question, I guess, but I had no fucking clue as to what.
“oh by the way Ames, you dating anyone right now? I’m not seeing anyone right now so…” He crossed his arms around him into this sort of self hug, phone hanging out of his left, eyes finally around mine.
First of all, my name is Amy. It’s already fucking short as it was. And second, “oh by the [fucking] way. I’m not [dicking] anyone right now [and since we are like sorority girls on our periods synching the fuck up] so… [how about you get to the part where you suck my—
“Ames.” His voice ended my thoughts right in place. I smacked his coffee onto his lap and walked away. I was grateful that he didn’t make a huge scene. I mainly grateful that he can’t work his brain and mouth and arms at the same time in order to make a scene.
So his name was something like Jack or Mitch and yes I over reacted. I tend to over react.