Ah ... junior high. I was in it for only one year, the 7th grade. Maybe that is why I revert back to that era ever once in a while. I just never got my fill. It was full of intrigue and when boys and girls started to go steady with each other. (Although nowadays my 2 and half year old niece has a boyfriend, meaning they start out much earlier.) But when I was in school, we thought boys were icky until we got into Junior High. 7th grade was the year that MB gave me my first Camel Light cigarette; the year MB and JR showed me their hickeys in gym class; the year ES (with his dad driving) took me to the Spring semi-formal and we danced to Kenny Loggins' "Meet Me Halfway."
Last Saturday, N and D threw a Winter Solstice party, the first holiday party of the season. With no holiday fatigue, I was excited abut going. V mentioned that she wanted to go shopping to find something to cute to wear to the party. Hmmm cute. Well, from that innocent comment I somehow interpreted I needed to get dressed up for the party. So I donned my gay apparrel: my roomate's black fitted sweater, a gold and cream boucle skirt, and gold brocade shoes. Even though I was overdressed, sometimes fate steps in and rewards your small vacation from jeans.
In walked in a balding 6'3" boy with jeans and an button down shirt. He started talking with me, D and A in the kitchen. I think all he wanted was a beer, but somehow got sucked into a conversation about the "Elegant Universe." He went away into the living room and started playing card games with the other members of the party. I stayed in the kitchen to discuss evolution and homosexuality with S, the new Burger King XBox 360 games with H, and other miscellaneous cocktail hour topics.
It turns out the 6'3" boy was an astrophysicist, associate professor at MIT. He rode a motorcycle, and we talked about bikes for a while. I have been banned from riding motorcycles from my friends and family mainly because I am the worst driver on the planet and the uncertainty of me on a bike is likely to be a deadly combination. He was nice enough and at the end of the night he offered to give me a ride on his motocycle whenever I wanted.
And here is where I go from 30 years old to 12. I went running with D the next morning, and our conversation went something like this:
D: So like, I saw you talking with my friend, the astrophysicist.
ET#1: Yeah he was cool.
D: I think he was like totally flirting with you.
ET#1: Like, oh my God. Like no way.
D: Um like totally.
ET#1: Well, he did say I could ride on the back of his bike like anytime.
D: Hellloooo. Earth to, ET#1. He was so macking on you.
ET#1: Is he like available? Is he looking for friend friends, or like girlfriend friends?
Basically, we came to no conclusion at the end of that conversation. D did inform me though that the astrophyscist did want to hang out and he like trivia night.
Now, I love trivia and I love games. Admittedly, I am slightly competitive, but what game is fun if winning has no meaning. In a bold move I invited the astrophysicist to trivia night at the Publick House. I also invited, B, S, C and Ch.
Yup, that's right folks. I invited the astrophysicist out on a group date. I think the last time I went on a group date, I went to Leominster Mall 15 years ago. A bar is kind of a step up. Right?
Last night, I was on edge. I wanted to make sure we got a table at the Publick House. I convinced N and D not to come, because I thought they would make me nervous. I nearly bit C's head off when he would not stop giving me a hard time.
The astrophysicist did arrive before the game started. In the nick of time. Luckily, the game started right away so there was no time for weirdness. Or maybe I was too focussed on the game to observe it. "Act a little stupid," was P's advice earlier that day. But homey does not know how to play that game.
The night was group date fun. We laughed, drank beer, and ate lots of fried foods. As the night progressed, he and I talked about his family, and how he was born in ths same town I lived in. He too had hiked the Lost Coast. We made a bet over who was right on one of the questions. He owes me a beer at some undisclosed time. At the end of the night, after a close 4th place finished, he pat my leg underneath the table. Like, oh my God, he touched my leg.
As he rode his motocycle down Beacon Street, I was walking home with Ch. I skipped along and asked didn't she think he was cute and didn't she like the part where he said this and didn't he have like a nice smile and did she think he would ask me out sometime.
Who knows what will happen? But isn't like awesome to feel like you are twelve again?
1 comment:
manolo doesn't want to feel like he is 12 again. because when manolo really was 12, he was touched in "funny places." it's a sore subject.
Post a Comment