time,” added Rachel with sympathy, not ridicule in her voice.
“Well, not with cheapo Jacob-o,” Olivia responded. “Enough about me.”
That was a first. I’d never had a conversation where Olivia had decided that there had been enough emphasis on her.
Olivia continued, “So, who is the guy?”
I started to sweat. My heart was racing. It was absurd. There I was just asking about a guy, like the outcome of the conversation was crucial to my entire future. He was just a guy I had seen across the campus a few times (make that twenty-two.) Just an absolutely gorgeous specimen of the male species. Not that I’ve been staring. Just thought about him a few times. Okay every night for weeks. He was just a guy. And it was time I left the realm of fantasy and started on reality. Good or bad.
“I’ve noticed this guy once or twice on campus. I’ve passed him when I was late for class a few times.”
“I didn’t think you were ever late for class. You seem to have some built in clock that always makes you punctual,” said Rachel.
It was hard to keep all the real time and do-over time sorted out when telling what had happened in a day which too often was coming off as if I were either crazy or a habitual liar.
I couldn’t give them his name, although I had discovered it through my social media stalking. Instead, I tried to play it like I only knew a few facts about him. “Well, um. . . I think he might be a theater major. I saw him go into the auditorium a couple of times.”
“Well, that narrows it down. Male. Theater major. That leaves about twenty guys,” Rachel started the process of elimination.
“Oh, but she said he was cute,” Stina added. “That eliminates about ten. Olivia, who are the hunk actors on campus?”
“What color hair?” she asked.
“Brown. With just the perfect highlights,” I was blushing. How stupid. “Real highlights, not fake. The kind you wish the beautician could get just right in your hair.”
“Height?”
“Perfect.”
“What is perfect?” Stina giggled.
“You know. Tall enough to give that feeling of protection, but close enough to be able to reach up and kiss.”
“I think you might have happened to see this guy more than a few times,” Rachel said in her all-knowing voice.
I was beginning to feel like I was on CSI Oklahoma .
“Does he have a car?” Stina asked back in a just-the-facts mode.
“I think I might have seen him in a little red convertible. Maybe a Miata.”
“Oh, honey child, I’m so sorry. That’s Al Dansby,” said Olivia with actual sympathy on her face.
“Oh Al. Yes, he is cute,” agreed Stina in a sad voice.
Obviously the thing with the black haired fashion model must have been more serious than it appeared in my not stalking observations.
“What’s wrong with him? Does he have a girlfriend?” I had to ask even though I didn’t think I really wanted to hear the answer.
“You wish that was the problem. No, he’s gay,” responded Olivia matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know that for sure,” said Rachel. “He’s never said he was. You know it’s wrong to go labeling people just because they don’t fit perfectly into your preconceived idea of how a man should act.”
“He doesn’t act gay,” added Stina. “Um baby, he’s so cute.”
“Oh, but let’s look at the facts. He’s a musical theater major,” said Olivia as she started counting facts off her fingers.
“That’s not a guarantee. There are musical theater actors who aren’t gay,” responded Rachel. “Okay, I can’t think of one off the top of my head. But I know there are.”
“Okay, you may be on to something Olivia. It’s true I’ve never seen him date anyone, although I doubt any girl would ever turn him down if he asked,” added Stina without her usual bubble. “And he turned you down. No straight guy has ever turned Olivia down,” Stina turned to tell me.
Well, that was that. My fairytale was just that. I thought I was going to cry.
“Well, not with cheapo Jacob-o,” Olivia responded. “Enough about me.”
That was a first. I’d never had a conversation where Olivia had decided that there had been enough emphasis on her.
Olivia continued, “So, who is the guy?”
I started to sweat. My heart was racing. It was absurd. There I was just asking about a guy, like the outcome of the conversation was crucial to my entire future. He was just a guy I had seen across the campus a few times (make that twenty-two.) Just an absolutely gorgeous specimen of the male species. Not that I’ve been staring. Just thought about him a few times. Okay every night for weeks. He was just a guy. And it was time I left the realm of fantasy and started on reality. Good or bad.
“I’ve noticed this guy once or twice on campus. I’ve passed him when I was late for class a few times.”
“I didn’t think you were ever late for class. You seem to have some built in clock that always makes you punctual,” said Rachel.
It was hard to keep all the real time and do-over time sorted out when telling what had happened in a day which too often was coming off as if I were either crazy or a habitual liar.
I couldn’t give them his name, although I had discovered it through my social media stalking. Instead, I tried to play it like I only knew a few facts about him. “Well, um. . . I think he might be a theater major. I saw him go into the auditorium a couple of times.”
“Well, that narrows it down. Male. Theater major. That leaves about twenty guys,” Rachel started the process of elimination.
“Oh, but she said he was cute,” Stina added. “That eliminates about ten. Olivia, who are the hunk actors on campus?”
“What color hair?” she asked.
“Brown. With just the perfect highlights,” I was blushing. How stupid. “Real highlights, not fake. The kind you wish the beautician could get just right in your hair.”
“Height?”
“Perfect.”
“What is perfect?” Stina giggled.
“You know. Tall enough to give that feeling of protection, but close enough to be able to reach up and kiss.”
“I think you might have happened to see this guy more than a few times,” Rachel said in her all-knowing voice.
I was beginning to feel like I was on CSI Oklahoma .
“Does he have a car?” Stina asked back in a just-the-facts mode.
“I think I might have seen him in a little red convertible. Maybe a Miata.”
“Oh, honey child, I’m so sorry. That’s Al Dansby,” said Olivia with actual sympathy on her face.
“Oh Al. Yes, he is cute,” agreed Stina in a sad voice.
Obviously the thing with the black haired fashion model must have been more serious than it appeared in my not stalking observations.
“What’s wrong with him? Does he have a girlfriend?” I had to ask even though I didn’t think I really wanted to hear the answer.
“You wish that was the problem. No, he’s gay,” responded Olivia matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know that for sure,” said Rachel. “He’s never said he was. You know it’s wrong to go labeling people just because they don’t fit perfectly into your preconceived idea of how a man should act.”
“He doesn’t act gay,” added Stina. “Um baby, he’s so cute.”
“Oh, but let’s look at the facts. He’s a musical theater major,” said Olivia as she started counting facts off her fingers.
“That’s not a guarantee. There are musical theater actors who aren’t gay,” responded Rachel. “Okay, I can’t think of one off the top of my head. But I know there are.”
“Okay, you may be on to something Olivia. It’s true I’ve never seen him date anyone, although I doubt any girl would ever turn him down if he asked,” added Stina without her usual bubble. “And he turned you down. No straight guy has ever turned Olivia down,” Stina turned to tell me.
Well, that was that. My fairytale was just that. I thought I was going to cry.
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