About a Boy

bennette
Little Bennette is 21.

I can’t believe I’m writing about this. I really thought I would leave talk about boys out of the blog, but SOMEBODY who will remain unnamed, told me I have to. Apparently, it’s ‘what the people want.’

OK, you’re right. It’s what I’m thinking about all the time, I might as well write about it. I met a guy. Whom I like a lot.

It was Bennette’s birthday party. Bennette is my girl. We work together at Brick+Mortar. She turned 21 (oldest 21-year-old I know), so it was a big one.

So here I am. I get to be a civilian. Go all out, dress up; tight dress, high heels, the whole thing. After a while, I walk through the bar to get to somewhere I’m not sure of. Just mingling, I guess. Three guys are sort of in my way, so I say excuse me and make eye contact with one of them. For some reason I can’t take my eyes off this guy. What is that? It’s stupid. But that’s what’s happening. So I don’t walk away. I stand there and talk to him and realize I’m really not talking to his friends at all, so I try to talk to them so as not to be rude. But I am just so into this guy. (Again, stupid.)

Later, I go upstairs to the bathroom with Mazza and Kramer (another girl I work with). Tell them about this boy I just met. They both let me have it. “So do something about it! Go give him your number. What if he already left??” Shit. You’re right! I need to talk to him before he leaves. We head back downstairs and I walk straight up to him. “Hey.” And as I start talking I realize he’s already talking to another girl. But I’ve already started talking, so I can’t stop now. “Hey, I didn’t want you to leave without saying bye.” He looks at me with this stupid charming smirk on his face. The girl glances up at him and kind of just walks away. Not angry or anything, more of a, guess I’ll talk to you later then (actually, I have no idea). So now it’s just me and he says, I’m glad you did. Then I’m realizing he was talking to another girl so I start rambling. Oh shit, you were talking to that girl. I’m sorry. “No, it’s fine. It’s just that she just gave me her number so I don’t want it to look like I’m just putting another number in my phone.” How did I think that was OK? Instead of saying, OK, fine, see ya later, I say, OK, I’ll just give you my card. (Actually, some of this may have not happened at all. I was drunk, so, I could be completely making this up.)

I’m pretty proud of myself for being so bold. I go to the bar and take shots with Kramer and Mazza. Look over and see him talking to that girl again. Fuck me. What am I doing? Throwing myself at a boy who obviously isn’t interested. At some point he leaves and I’m over it (no I’m not). Erin (a guy I work with who shares my love of Christmas) leaves to go to The Basement (local bar) so I catch up with him and hang out with his girlfriend and a couple other friends. You know I’m still talking about this boy. I mean, he’s the first boy I’ve had any kind of connection with, or at least felt like I did, even if it wasn’t reciprocated.

So now it’s like 45 minutes later and I get a text. It’s a picture of Adam Scott (I told him he reminded me of him) and a message underneath: This guy?! This is my flirty/angry text btw. I write back, haha I love it. He is sexy. Kramer is now at my side and grabs the phone out of my hand. She writes back as I protest. “U r sexy.” Jesus Christ, Kramer. Thanks a lot.

So the boy, let’s call him Brett – asks if I’m still around. Yea, I’m at the Basement. Wouldn’t you know, he is too? We meet outside and he offers to drive me home. What? No, haven’t you been drinking? “Not really. I had one drink.” Oh, wow, OK then you are much more sober than me. He takes my arm and walks me to his car. There’s something about the way he carries himself that is so attractive. Pretty sure he has a nice car but I have no idea. I just remember thinking that. Alex (another guy I work with at Brick) appears out of nowhere all big protective brother, giving Brett the riot act. He demands that he puts his number in his phone and call him as soon as I’m home. Pretty sweet, actually.

Things get even more fuzzy in my memory now. I remember, but I forget a lot of what we talked about. I know we talked about our past relationships. He’s been single for about a year after a 7-year relationship. I think that made me feel especially comfortable around him.

We get back to my place and he walks me inside. I’m giggly and nervous and keep saying, OK, this is happening right now. You’re coming inside. Like I couldn’t believe it.

We talk for a little and he just keeps looking at me with that stupid charm. I keep telling him that he’s super cute.  Listen, I know, I just met him. And I’m very drunk. But I seriously cannot resist this guy. And I tell him again how super cute he is. “If you tell me that one more time I’m going to kiss you again.” Eventually I do say it again and he just grabs me like I don’t have a choice. Who is this guy?

I walk him out to his car and kiss him again. In love. Ha. I’m kidding. It’s a joke, people.

Can’t believe I’m putting this out to the world. Hopefully “Brett” doesn’t read this.

Let’s be honest. I don’t really care if he does.

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