In the perfect world of TV sitcoms, this one would be filmed with a little perspective from each season's leading man. With the right angle and some carefully crafted lines, Mr. IV would turn my text into a (harmless) merciless mockery of my falling for him. We would continue on as friends with this little mix-up to laugh at.
Maybe that is what will happen.
I decided to keep my plans. Around 3:00 I finally had myself moving enough to shower, get dressed and head out to the mall. My mission was to find a good book for the remainder of my break. I spent nearly an hour and a half scoping one out. And that was all I scoped. In fact, I didn't even notice him until I was about 15 minutes from leaving the store. It was right then that I also realized I had no way of skirting around talking to him--he was the only one checking customers.
I wove around the shelves a while longer, picking up and putting down Faulkner, Kerouac, and a few others. I finally settled on Slaughterhouse Five and without a second thought, beelined for the register. He had other customers and was stooped below the desk bagging up their purchase. I avoided eye contact until I couldn't. He started in with a joke, saying he wouldn't ring me up. I responded awkward (Big surprise. I know.). We chatted a little. He asked about my day. I exaggerated and said I had been cleaning. He made fun of my book selection and spent way too long writing my new remaining balance on my gift card. (Balance, circles and a star.) We said our goodbyes, and I was out.
Maybe my text will just be some joke to look back at. Then again, maybe this is the end.
Good thing I can stray to Fiction.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Share what you think. I would love to hear what you have to say.