It’s 11 o’clock.
It’s 11 o’clock and I’m starring at an empty screen. The same empty screen I’ve been starring at for the last hour (in between Facebook trolling, of course). I’m sitting with a blank page before me with one single question rattling around in my brain. What do I write?
Now, I don’t mean that in the sense that I have writer’s block and I cannot for the life of me come up with something interesting. It’s more of a question of how much is too much? What do I write and what do I hold back? What do I put in black and white and send out to the Internet and what do I keep locked away in my memories?
My couch guest and I have had and interesting few days. Lindsey woke up yesterday understandably hung over. In a matter of hours she lost everything and suddenly found herself needing to start over. Who wouldn’t want to approach that with a bottle of alcohol in hand?
She sobered up and then went out to run some errands. We parted ways for a couple of hours, duplicate keys in hand. I wasn’t gone for long but when I got back she had another bottle of alcohol and was going hard at it.
At what point do you step in?
At what point do you stay the friend and what point do you start being the parent instead?
I looked at this girl, this friend of mine, wrecked on my couch and couldn’t help but think about the situation she was in. I think sometimes you get into a relationship with someone and even though they can become your whole world, sometimes there’s a draw to the other side of the fence.
You can meet someone who takes an interest in you and suddenly you find yourself feeling attractive again. Feeling new. And you tell yourself that innocent flirting never hurt anyone, right? The light of the flame is so bright that you don’t realize that sometimes a little harmless flirting can turn into more; can get you burned. Sometimes.
Now I’m not railing against flirting here, please don’t get me wrong. We all KNOW I’m a horrible flirt. I’m just saying that sometimes it’s the start.
It made me think about The Waitress. She was full of sass and sugar. Stop and go. Breathy suggestions and provocative movements. Was she just a flirt? As you’ve all stated, pethaps this girl really is just a flirt. A tease. An otherwise attached female who enjoys feeling attractive, sexy, beautiful; wanted. Sometimes the thrill is in the hunt. Flirting is the game, the whole game; the end game. It’s its own chase.
The problem is, I’m a glutton for punishment! I suddenly had to know. Was she a flirt? Did she just have amnesia? Suddenly I needed to know.
So while Lindsey ran her errands, I went to the cafe to meet up with The Waitress.
I walked in and sat down at my usual table and as per habit pulled out my iPad, but I wasn’t really looking at it. I was scanning the restaurant for The Waitress. I wanted a clue before she even talked to me. A look of surprise on her face? Disappointment? Anything?
Please just give me a clue!
But of course she walked up behind me so I got no heads up notice. Damn it!
“Hey you!” She greeted brightly.
Hmm, no hint of sarcasm there… No awkwardness. Weird.
“Hi,” I smiled.
She slid into the booth across from me. She plunked down, putting both hands under her chin, elbows on the table. It was a perfect squeezed view of her chest.
Damn this cafe and having sexy uniforms!
“So let me guess, you were looking at some porn and thought of me?” She said as she winked.
“Nah, I only look at porn in cafes,” I said with a smile. “To catch a pretty girl’s attention.”
“So you don’t think of me when you masturbate?”
I felt my cheeks start to burn, but I wasn’t giving up. I wanted to know. My heart started to pound in my ears, but…
“Speaking of which… I’m surprised you didn’t call. I was looking forward to telling you about that sex toy you inspired me to buy.”
Her smile flickered for a second, she looked down at the table for just a second and then she was talking again. But it was all I needed.
… Excuse incoming.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry. I was helping a friend move and I have just been soo super busy. I’ll give ya a call soon though,” and she winked again.
You know those moments in life where your heart goes crazy because you desperately want to say something, but you don’t have the words and so you smile and play nice? You swallow that thumping feeling. You say nothing. And you torture yourself later about what you wish you would have said?
This was one of those moments and I knew it.
If I said nothing, I’d berate myself for it the entire walk home.
If I said nothing I would lose a cool place to hang out because I’d be too embarrassed to come back.
If I said nothing….
I swallowed hard.
“It’s ok.” I said. Fuck I had no idea what I was going to say!
“I mean, it’s ok…” I started again. “You don’t have to say you’re going to call. I think we both know you won’t. You’re really nice and you’re really pretty so I’m sure you get a lot of customers coming in, flirting you up and then leaving their numbers on their bill. You don’t have to feel guilty about not calling.”
“No, no,… It’s not like…”
“It’s ok, really. I’d rather we be honest so I don’t have too embarrassed to come back here. We’ll just be…”
“Flirty friends?” She asked.
“Flirty friends, it is.”
Flirty friends, it is.