We’ve been rescheduling every night for the past two weeks and we decide on Sunday. He won’t tell me what we’re doing. Its Sunday morning at 11 am. I have no idea what time this date is, so I text him to get some guidance. Details below:
Me: “Oh, the garden?” I realize after saying this that sarcasm doesn’t exist via text and that might be a really aggressive ask so I quickly cover my ass with “haha jk.”
am: I don’t check my phone as I eat my bagel and revel in my hangover dressed in my white fluffy robe. I come back to my phone to a missed call and a text from him saying, “hey, give me a call when you get a chance.” Why am I nervous?
I start shaking immediately
am: I call back. He asks, “So what are you up to?” I’m too hungover to think of a lie or something normal, so I say, “Just hanging out in my robe.” I think he is shocked but this is a phone conversation so I don’t know what his real reaction is. He brushes it off and pushes on. “So I got us tickets to the Celtics game tonight.” I’m in shock. http://www.americashpaydayloan.com/title-loans-ut/ This is date #2. Boys like me? This is news. (Really a step up from the first date I went on in Spain where I was taken to McDonalds – But that is a story for another time.) He tells me to come over at 5:00 pm.
3:30 pm: I order a giant chicken parm sandwich. This is the third consecutive date i’ve eaten chicken parm before. This is becoming a weird tradition.
3:45 pm: I decide I’m tired and order a coffee. I forget coffee from restaurants is stronger than the Keurig. I drink my entire coffee. SOS.
4:15 pm: I’m at the restaurant semi-freaking out because I have to be ready in a hour and haven’t showered. I realize I probably shouldn’t have gone to a restaurant at 3:00pm.
5:10 pm: I’m somehow ready. My roommate and 2 friends drop me off at his apartment. I am a child. He is probably wondering why it took 3 girls to drop me off.
5:45 pm: We get to the garden and go to our seats. I buy us beers because I feel like I owe him my life for buying me a ticket to this game.
6:00 pm: The game starts. Did I mention I don’t watch basketball? Minor details. He tells me a players name. I say who? He repeats it. I pretend like I know who he’s talking about and I just didn’t hear him right the first time.
6:45 pm: Things turn dark. Somehow we are having a conversation about the buffet options at strip clubs. How did we get here?
7:00 pm: Our conversation shifts. I ask him if he can dance. I don’t know why I just asked that. The guy in front of us turns around. “Of course you can dance! Everyone can dance.” Oh.
This is game 4 of the playoffs
7:50 pm: He says he doesn’t know what he’d do if he got on the jumbotron. Last time he was on it he poured a beer on his friend. I ask him if he would pour a beer on my head. Nervous laughter.
8:30 pm: I’m not sure how it’s 8:30 pm. The game goes into OT. Is my life a scene from How To lose a Guy in 10 Days? (I appreciate you if you understand that reference.)