Dave - Part 2
Aug. 21st, 2007 12:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
polyhordeIt was a few days later as I was walking with some friends to my apartment after they finished up “Midnight Soapscum Porn” that I checked my messages and found he’d called me. After I got over my yelp and giggle fit I dictated the number to my friend Anthea and had her write it on my arm, her titillated and vaguely confused expression was worth her parents glaring at me to hurry up.
An hour or so later, I’d said goodnight to my friends and after having tried two other variations on the number - he slurred the last few digits so it took me a few tries and some embarrassed apologies before I got a hold of him. I was walking to Blockbuster on Boniface from my apartment on Bragaw to return a movie and we chatted there and back. He told me all about his psychotic spring and the horror stories there in. For almost two hours I dawdled outside flirting with him until almost midnight when it was getting chilly and he had to go to bed.
The next night was more of the same except I had a party to go to and he had work so we only talked for an hour or so. I was in an amazingly good mood after we hung up, and when I get like that I start becoming hazardous to my mental/emotional health – it makes me bold.
I called him back as I was driving, he didn’t pick up this time (which is probably for the best otherwise I never would have said what I did – that’s a lie, I probably would have but the feeling of wanting to curl up in embarrassment would have been exponentially greater). The message went something along these lines, “Hey Dave, this is Jess. I was calling because I wanted to know are you ever planning on asking me out – or am I reading way too much into things? If you weren’t its cool, I’m more than happy being just friends but if you were I’d really like that. So anyway I’m probably making no sense, and hopefully you won’t think less of me when you get this, I’ve gotta go – I’m driving and would kinda hate to die when things are just starting to get interesting. So. Bye. *click*” No, that was not edited to make me sound better; I really was that juvenile and out of my mind.
The party was fun, brief since I had to work in the morning but it was nice to see Paul again and Pope before he left. I tried to ignore the slivers of doubt when I excited told them I had a date, but as iggy as that might have made me feel Pope trying to guess who it was was highly entertaining. “You know him from Faire, I’ll say that much.” “Hmm, so is he in one of the courts?” “Nope.” “A peasant?” “Nope. He isn’t an actor.” “One of the vendors?” “Guess again.” “One of the tech directors?” “Nope but he does something tech related.” He circled around it for almost thirty minutes before going, “I have no idea unless it’s the photographer.” “Uh huh.” “What really? Dude! You and the photographer?! Huh . . . I wouldn’t have picked that match. Cool, good for you.”
The next evening Dave called me again, in my bubbliness that he called me (yes I am young, and yes I am a girl, I must accept these things and move on) I had forgotten the last thing I’d said to him – he hadn’t. My mood went from 60 to 0 in under 0.8 seconds. The bastard tortured me, “I’ll answer your question after you tell me how the party went last night.” So I told him about seeing the boys, Pope’s guessing and then teasing me about it. Then I waited for his response, “The answer is . . . yes, I am planning on asking you out, that was actually my plan before I ever first called you.” “Really?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure whether you were interested or whether you were just flirting to flirt. Then I got your message . . .” *blush*
He was going out of town for the weekend on a bear watching trip so the soonest we could go out was the next Friday. Now that we knew what was what we teased and flirted in earnest trying to figure each other out. Alli came out and stared at me giggling on the floor in the living room, until I explained who it was on the other end then she nodded in understanding and got herself some miniwheats.
To Be Continued . . . ~J
An hour or so later, I’d said goodnight to my friends and after having tried two other variations on the number - he slurred the last few digits so it took me a few tries and some embarrassed apologies before I got a hold of him. I was walking to Blockbuster on Boniface from my apartment on Bragaw to return a movie and we chatted there and back. He told me all about his psychotic spring and the horror stories there in. For almost two hours I dawdled outside flirting with him until almost midnight when it was getting chilly and he had to go to bed.
The next night was more of the same except I had a party to go to and he had work so we only talked for an hour or so. I was in an amazingly good mood after we hung up, and when I get like that I start becoming hazardous to my mental/emotional health – it makes me bold.
I called him back as I was driving, he didn’t pick up this time (which is probably for the best otherwise I never would have said what I did – that’s a lie, I probably would have but the feeling of wanting to curl up in embarrassment would have been exponentially greater). The message went something along these lines, “Hey Dave, this is Jess. I was calling because I wanted to know are you ever planning on asking me out – or am I reading way too much into things? If you weren’t its cool, I’m more than happy being just friends but if you were I’d really like that. So anyway I’m probably making no sense, and hopefully you won’t think less of me when you get this, I’ve gotta go – I’m driving and would kinda hate to die when things are just starting to get interesting. So. Bye. *click*” No, that was not edited to make me sound better; I really was that juvenile and out of my mind.
The party was fun, brief since I had to work in the morning but it was nice to see Paul again and Pope before he left. I tried to ignore the slivers of doubt when I excited told them I had a date, but as iggy as that might have made me feel Pope trying to guess who it was was highly entertaining. “You know him from Faire, I’ll say that much.” “Hmm, so is he in one of the courts?” “Nope.” “A peasant?” “Nope. He isn’t an actor.” “One of the vendors?” “Guess again.” “One of the tech directors?” “Nope but he does something tech related.” He circled around it for almost thirty minutes before going, “I have no idea unless it’s the photographer.” “Uh huh.” “What really? Dude! You and the photographer?! Huh . . . I wouldn’t have picked that match. Cool, good for you.”
The next evening Dave called me again, in my bubbliness that he called me (yes I am young, and yes I am a girl, I must accept these things and move on) I had forgotten the last thing I’d said to him – he hadn’t. My mood went from 60 to 0 in under 0.8 seconds. The bastard tortured me, “I’ll answer your question after you tell me how the party went last night.” So I told him about seeing the boys, Pope’s guessing and then teasing me about it. Then I waited for his response, “The answer is . . . yes, I am planning on asking you out, that was actually my plan before I ever first called you.” “Really?” “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure whether you were interested or whether you were just flirting to flirt. Then I got your message . . .” *blush*
He was going out of town for the weekend on a bear watching trip so the soonest we could go out was the next Friday. Now that we knew what was what we teased and flirted in earnest trying to figure each other out. Alli came out and stared at me giggling on the floor in the living room, until I explained who it was on the other end then she nodded in understanding and got herself some miniwheats.
To Be Continued . . . ~J
