Wednesday, August 18, 2010

''Another Chance'' Cafe...chapter 6

As usual, the next day was a blur. Once again, a blur in the sense that I can’t really remember what happened but slow in that feeling of I can’t wait to talk to Shea again. I think that every day is going to be like that. At least until that fateful day when she emerges from her post bad break-up coma and realizes she can do much better than me. Yes, even though my nervousness and periods of acting like a school boy are nearly completely gone, I still lack a complete set of functioning self-esteem parts. Still working on that aspect of my personality. It has become a life-long project that I hope I will be able to complete very soon and put it on high display for the entire world to be able to see. But until then, I will simply continue to live each day on a case by case basis of whether girls like me or not. Today’s case: although I can’t seem to remove the haunting emotions of doubt from my mind about how long she will like me or whether she only likes me because she feels like she can talk to me and because she hates her ex-boyfriend, I’m feeling pretty good about where I stand with Shea. Unorthodox and possibly a soul crippling way to live life, but it’s worked for me thus far…somewhat.

I sleep-walked through the work day only occasionally waking up from my semi-conscious state to check the time to see how much longer until I could escape. I imagined the next day would be even worse because that was our date night. Yeah, our official first date. Even though it was an actual true statement, I still found it difficult to believe. I prepped myself for the possibility of her blowing me off due to, well, anything. I could hear her now.

“I’m sorry Patrick but a couple friends of mine who I haven’t seen in a long time are in town and want to hang out. Maybe some other time perhaps?” or “Patrick, I’ve been thinking and I don’t know if I’m quite ready to go there with you just yet, or with anyone for that matter. I just need some ‘me’ time. You’re a good friend and I hope we can still keep a friendship. I love talking to you,” I imagined.

If you’re thinking I need to get my negative imagination under control, you are completely correct. But it’s very hard not to think in that depressing direction when it has happened to me time and time again. I think there might be some kind of script out there that was specifically created in order for girls to let me down easy. Or at least think that they are letting me down easy. One day, I think I might drop everything and commence an all out search for the creator of that script and offer them two choices: A slow painful death or a torturous painful death.

Snapping back to reality, the rest of day was the usual. Gym, home, dinner, television, and my nightly debate on what time to call this girl. Now being about 4 and half days “in the game” with her, this time was much easier than all of the others. After I caught some re-run episodes of a sitcom on television, I very casually picked up my phone and dialed her number. To my heart-stopping surprise, she answered my call about half way into the first ring.

“Hey Patrick!” she screamed.

“Uh, hey what’s up Shea? How are you doing?” I asked.

“Sorry for the scream, I just got happy when I saw your name. I think I just attacked my phone like it owes me money or something,” she responded.

“Oh yeah? Ha, ha. You’re a funny one,” I said. “Well I’m extra glad to hear that the sight of my name brings you so much joy”.

“It’s not exactly the sight of your name, it’s you. I mean you’re name is cool too, I don’t have anything against it or anything but I…I uh, I was thinking about you all day and was just glad that you called,” she said.

“Oh…I well, I am…glad to hear that too. Oh and it’s good to know that you don’t have anything against my name. If you did, I might have to re-think being your friend,” I joked.

“Ha…ha, very funny. Well, I’m glad to hear that I am your friend. I was beginning to think that maybe you just help strangers with their groceries all the time,” she said.

“Nope, only the really hot ones,” I responded.

“Ohhhh really? So, you think I’m hot? Well thanks for being honest; at least I know you don’t want me for my mind. That might have hurt my feelings,” she joked.

“Oh of course not, intelligence has nothing to do with it. I took one look at you and said ‘yeah, dime piece all by herself, time to move in and spit my game’,” I retorted.

“Hahahaha, you are hilarious, no way you actually told yourself that. That doesn’t even sound like you at all,” she replied.

“Ha, yeah you’re right, far from it. I don’t think I could pull that image off if I tried,” I said.

“Well, there’s a certain sexiness about how you said it though,” she said. A “certain sexiness?!” Really?! Is she being for real or just setting me up for another joke. Hard to tell with females, they are the masters of disguise in everything they do. Covert spies who always get their man. Hopefully I’m the man she has in her crosshairs.

“Was there really?” I asked.

“Yup, I mean guys talking like that can be sexy, to an extent. They have to know how to say it, when to say it and how often. And the most important thing is that they don’t usually talk like that. Slang is not a bad thing, but as a female gets older and starts to look for that right someone to settle down with, they really don’t want a guy who doesn’t have an adult vocabulary. But since I know that you do, I thought you sounded sexy just then,” she explained.

“Wow, something else that’s good to know. I feel like I should be making a ‘Good Things to Know’ list. So I can remember all the things that you like,” I responded.

“You could if you want, but I think I’m a pretty simple girl. I don’t ask for too much and I try not to complain too much either. Many girls can be very picky and very superficial. I feel like I’m too old and mature for things like that. Just give me ‘this, this and that’ and I’m yours all day every day,” she said.

“And what might ‘this, this and that’ be?” I asked.

“Well, respect is at the top of my list. I’m not talking about worshipping the ground that I walk on or feeling like you have to check up on me every two minutes to see if I’m ok, but just basic respect. If we’re having a discussion, then let me speak and I’ll let you speak. There are always at least two sides to a story and I want to hear yours as much as I want you to hear mine,” she said.

“Very true, I don’t really hear many women say something like that. Most of the time, it’s their way or the highway and I don’t really think that’s very fair,” I responded.

“You are too right. That’s why I try not to be one of those women, I want to be treated fairly so I’m going to treat you fairly,” she said.

“What’s the next thing?”

“The next thing is romance. I love romance, a lot of it. I mean it doesn’t have to be something straight out of a super cheesy romance novel or a chick flick but a realistic amount. Candles, flowers, alone time, the normal stuff. I associate romance with almost everything, so it’s really not too hard to do a good job. For example, if you want to go hang out with the guys, that’s great. Everyone needs time with their friends. Something as small as even a text message after you’re done hanging out with them just saying "hi" tells me that I’m on your mind. The rest of my day will be great just from that. Small instances of romance, that’s all,” she said.

“So I guess you like to hold hands?” I asked.

“Oh my gosh. Like? I love it! Holding hands just forms that subtle but intimate connection between two people that say ‘I care’,” she explained.

“Well sorry to tell you this, but I don’t like holding hands. I think it’s too mushy,” I said.

“Uh, um ok, well I uh, suppose…,” she started.

“I’m just joking Shea, I like holding hands too. And holding onto yours is easy, your skin is very soft,” I joked.

“Ohhhh, ok, I’ll admit you got me that time. I was about to hang up, I don’t know if I could go without holding hands. And thank you for the compliment, by the way,” she replied.

“You’re very welcome. I look forward to holding onto your hand. If you’ll let me, of course,” I said.

“Absolutely, I think what we went through yesterday has earned you some quality hand holding time,” she joked.

“Very glad to hear it,” I replied back. I kind of wanted to ask her if her ex had tried to contact her again since yesterday. But at the same time, we were having another good conversation in which she said I sounded sexy so I didn’t want to bring him up and put a negative spin on a positive evening.

We spoke for a little while longer about random things. I asked if she wrote anymore poetry that day. She told me yes, and that I was her inspiration this time. Yesterday must have really impressed her for whatever reason. Whatever it was, I’m glad it is paying off in benefitting me. I asked her if I could hear it but she said I would just have to wait until the following evening during our date. Our date! It slipped my mind during our conversation. I got so wrapped up in listening to her angelic voice say good things about me that I let the event that I was dawning on all day fall out of my head.

Realizing that I had done absolutely no research on restaurants or movie theaters or anything at all for that matter, I figured I should end the conversation so I could work on it. I really didn’t want to get off of the phone with her. I loved, I mean, I liked talking to her a lot. We have talked for what feels like forever so far and still haven’t hit any disagreements over anything. I even had to plug my phone in to prevent the battery from dying because we had been talking for so long. I smoothly attempted to get off of the phone with her.

“Well, as much as I would absolutely love to keep talking to you, I think I should go get some rest,” I said.

“Aww, do you really need to sleep? It’s kind of overrated. Especially when you’re talking to me,” she joked.

“That’s a good one but seeing how I must prepare in order to impress you tomorrow, I think I should be well rested,” I said. Smooth enough? I thought so.

“You do have a point there, but truthfully there’s no need to try to impress me. You’ve already done so much. Just keep being yourself and you can’t go wrong,” she advised.

“Ok, well I’ll take your advice under consideration. Maybe it’ll work,” I said.

“Of course it’ll work, it’s my idea”

“You’re just a regular comedian, you must crack yourself up”

“I do, helps me to pass the time. Well, I’m still looking forward to tomorrow night and I’m sure I’ll have a great time. Go get your rest and I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Patrick,” she said. Her voice is so addicting, the way she says “Good Night” makes me want to record it and use it as a ring tone on my phone so I could listen to it whenever I want.

“Good night Shea, sweet dreams,” I responded. “Oh wait!...”


The feeling of nervousness suddenly returned to my entire being. This time it brought along the emotion of uncertainty. It’s not a big deal, but I’m scared to say it. Last time I gave into telling a female anything about how I felt about her, it backfired. It always did. It took a lot for me to just admit to myself that I liked her. That so far, she made me happy. That she was the first thing in a long time to take away my negative feelings about myself, about women and about the world. But it was still so difficult to spit out. I couldn’t stop now, it would probably seem weird to her. Beginning to say something and then stopping and just saying good night was not a very smooth move. With all of these thoughts spiraling out of control in my head, I just went for it.

“I, uh…I, um. Uh, I think about you too. I actually think about you a lot,” I finally admitted.

“Oh, why thank you Patrick. That was sweet. It’s good to know I’m on someone’s mind,” she replied.

“My pleasure my dear, hope you sleep well. See you tomorrow evening,” I said.

“7:30, good night”

“Good night”

I kept the phone to my ear until I heard her hang-up. That took a lot for me to say. I was a little upset at myself for stuttering and taking so long to say it. She admitted it first; it should have been a piece of cake for me to say the same thing. But yet it wasn’t. It actually felt as if it was harder than if I had been the one to say it first for some strange reason.

Even though she sounded happy to speak to me and seemed like she generally enjoyed my company the day before, I still had my doubts. I had been down this road before. I was different than her last boyfriend. I was nice, attentive, considerate, respectful and made her laugh. But how long would it last? How long until I expire? She liked her ex at some point. She had to or else they wouldn’t have ever dated. What did she like about him? What didn’t she like about him? Would I fall into that same category again where girls like me during the honeymoon phase? Then when the vacations over, they realize I have outlasted my purpose. I had run my course with them and it was time for them to move on and either return to their “me time” phase or find someone better.

I didn’t know the answer to any of these questions and I wasn’t about to ask her in order to find out. I guess I’m just going to have to see what happens the old fashioned way, yet again. I just wished I knew when. When she would be done with me so I could prepare myself. Being surprised with an “I think I need some space” speech is never a good thing. Especially when you really like the person. But whatever I suppose. I’m just to going to continue being me and if she gets tired of me then so be it.

I’ll deal with it as I have dealt with it the last time. Or at least as I have tried to deal with the last time. The numbing feeling still lingers in my heart. The paralyzing words still echo in my ear, “I went with him to a hotel last night”.

“So, what happened?”

“What do you think happened, Patrick?”

It felt as if someone had taken the biggest shovel in the world and hit me in the chest with it…many times. I loved her, not liked, LOVED! I was in love with her. I put her before my family, before my friends. How could she do that to me? How could she do that to us? Why was I not good enough? Why was she such a bitch? These questions I did know the answers to, well a couple of them. But I still didn’t completely understand. I couldn’t understand how one person could do that to another. Especially someone they claimed to love. I treated her like a princess, no like a queen. That’s how I saw her, that’s what she was to me. She was the queen of my universe and she chose to crush it with one blow.

These thoughts rushed back inside of my head once again ignoring my efforts to defend against them. That happened one year ago, but it was still so fresh to me. Still so new and just as devastating as when I experienced it the first time. But I mustn’t let these horrible memories influence my feelings about Shea. Yes, she’s a woman but she seems so different. The last one seemed different too and look how that turned out.

I took a moment to try to calm myself down and resumed my brainstorming of ideas for a top notch first date. The memories were still there, I managed to suppress them but they were still very much there. I pressed on; blocking them out with different places I could take Shea tomorrow night. I wonder if she likes Italian or perhaps Mexican. A fancy restaurant would be nice or maybe a more down to earth setting would work better. Somewhere we could talk and I would be able to stare into those magnificent eyes of hers. Somewhere I’ve been before so I would know the food is good and the environment would be great. Somewhere close. I got it!

To be continued...

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