Hook and line

“I have a girlfriend.” I let the words hang there and waited for a reaction.

“Okay.” She said, her head shaking at my hesitation.

I took a deep breath before continuing. “Had a girlfriend,” I watched her for any change in mood but nothing happened. This girl was either very good or absolutely not interested. Was I losing my eye for observation or was this vixen merely toying with my fragile state. “We decided to take a break after some recent goings on.”

The girl didn’t wait a moment before asking, “You cheated on her?”

“What? No.” Did I come across this way to her, as an adulterer? Though my intentions for meeting Seattle weren’t clear to myself, I did know that I was in search for meaningful conversation and perhaps a friend who didn’t drop me off at clubs with a twenty pinned to my shirt.

The thought did begin to creep into my mind that perhaps this was her way of testing me. I thought to pry back, “How about you?” Not my best interrogation moment.

“I had one too.” My ears perked at the word, had. “So what did happen that she wanted a break?”

“Her family is a little crazy and mine isn’t wild about her.”

“Just families?” Her eyebrow arched and there was a tugging at the corner of her lips. She was playfully trying to work the truth out of me.

I couldn’t help but grinning like a fool. “No, I admit that I didn’t handle some situations the right way.” I leveled a finger at her and spoke through my dumb grin, “Don’t ask for specifics.” I imagined what it would be like to tell her about Bowie and the refrigerator or the roach and restaurant. My hand returned to the edge of the table and I settled back into my seat. “What about your boy situation?”

She giggled, “Boy indeed.” She composed herself. “He was a tad possessive and I let him go. Don’t inquire.” We sat silently for a moment reflecting on our damaged love lives. “Why can’t people just be normal, love each other and screw on a regular basis without extra strings.”

I choked on the soda that I had been drinking. Trying to alternate laughing and coughing while Seattle watched me was difficult. Eventually I managed to wheeze a gasp for air and did my best to expel the fluid from my lungs.

“Why does that always solicit the same reaction?” She asked with a laugh.

“Because,” I gasped, “You want it.”

She spoke slowly, deliberately. “I want it?”

“You know what I mean.” I coughed one last time, digging in and trying to release the last of the drink from my wind pipe.

“I do, but I’ve met all quality and variety of creep.”

I began moving the utensils around the table, positioning them in a variety of patterns. “There are a lot of crazy girls out there too.” I thought to myself that Rebecca was one of the few exceptions. “I’ve met women who could devour a man and others who were bound by no canvas jacket.”

“And I’ve met men who could set your hair on end with their vile excuse for hygienic habits. I’ve trod on the fetid lands of bathrooms unkempt and spied across the hills of cloths that time forgot.” We both crumbled into laughter. After a good bout of cheer we settled into a comfortable silence. There was warmth to the room that was probably more a lack of conditioned air but it made me feel good.

 Finding a moment of naked honesty and forgetting myself, I blurted, “It’s like being with an old friend.”

She blushed and with a sinister smile and wickedly coy hush to her voice asked, “An old friend?”

The force of my blood rushing from my body to fill the erection threatening to burst from my evening pants was dizzying. Suddenly my intentions were muddled and I forgot that this evening was not a date.