Well, last night I got to see Ms. Hold ‘Em. She was working down at the secret bar as usual and I stopped in for my usual Thursday evening with the gang. When I got there, C. asked me if I were going out with her this weekend. My answer, as it has been all week, was “I think so.” We had made tentative plans early in the week, but she still hadn’t gotten back to me on the subject. Of course, in my mind–and, dear readers, I know many of you know how my mind operates–this meant that she was too polite to say no directly and was hoping I’d go away or something. But only part of me has still been thinking that way.

Anyway, she took a break at some point and we had a brief opportunity to chat. She confirmed a date for Saturday night. It was all done shyly and nonchalantly, even though my heart was soaring. Anyway, the night wore on and JetBlue showed up. And she went on and on and on about the asshole, whom she supposedly cast out of her life, but whom she speaks about frequently. Luckily, Crazy Artist Guy was there and he took most of the shrapnel spewing from her mouth. And I made damn sure that Ms. Hold ‘Em didn’t in the least way think I was chatting at length with JetBlue. I don’t know if she knows her at all, but no need to bring that all up.

At one point I was standing at the bar and the owner walked in. As is sometimes the case, everything then slipped briefly into Goodfellas mode:

Owner: What–you just stand at someone’s spot at the bar where their drink is resting?

Me: Whaddareya gonna do ’bout it?

Owner: What am I gonna do ’bout it?

Me: Yeah, let me step over here away from your spot at the bar while you tell me what yer gonna do about it…

Owner: That’s right. You can’t break nobody’s fingers if yer fingers is broken. Remember that.

Anyway, once the cards were done Ms. Hold ‘Em and I sat at the bar chatting. I was perhaps a little drunk and very talkative. This is a good thing, because even if I was saying something stupid (and I don’t think I was) at least she knows that I am talkative. You see, I tend to be one of the quieter people that hangs out down there and the bartender has often commented on how quiet I am. And, you know, to a lot of people quiet = boring. Anyway, I wasn’t quiet last night.

So, at the end of the night, I gave her a birthday gift. Just something small since I don’t know her well. And she thanked me for it and all. And that was that. Part of me believes she’s already re-gifted it. But only part of me.

And, in conclusion, we’ve been sending more and more text messages over the last week or so. Until today it had always been me who sent a message first (and the only one who’s actually called the other), but this morning she sent me one out of the blue to tell me that she was at home because her daughter wasn’t feeling well. So, again, that’s a nice feeling, all this communicating more.

And we’re going out tomorrow. I’m figuring dinner and something (anyone, any ideas?). I told her that I was thinking paintball would be a good way to bond–you know, because going home from a date with welts will definitely make it a memorable one. Luckily, I’m pretty sure she got the joke. And that’s always a good thing. Not everyone gets my jokes.

But, anyway, that’s it. Nothing crazy, perhaps nothing interesting. I’m yawning myself because it feels so calm and good and real. Mmm hmm.


2 Responses to “Yawn”

  1. Bob-kat Says:

    I bet she loved that you got her e agift adn if she laughs at your jokes that is always a good sign. Mind you, she might be into paintball! 🙂

    Michele sent me to say hi.

  2. My Ghillie Suits » Yawn Says:

    […] Check it out! While looking through the blogosphere we stumbled on an interesting post today.Here’s a quick excerptI told her that I was thinking paintball would be a good way to bond–you know, because going home from a date with welts will definitely make it a memorable o… […]

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