It won’t be long, yeah
March 1, 2011
The Wednesday after the Superbowl I got a text from Mark, asking if I wanted to go bowling. I said, “sure, when?” and he said, “in a couple of hours.”
I had just signed up for the 5:30 spin class at the gym, and was really excited about going, but I was exciting at the possibility of seeing him again. So I replied that I’d love to go, but I was going to go to spin class first and I usually smell really bad after that. I suppose it should have occurred to me to offer to shower at the gym, but it didn’t. Maybe I was secretly testing him, idk. If I was, he passed with flying colors: all he wanted to know was why I was so worried about smelling bad at a bowling alley.
We agreed to meet at Sacco’s in Davis (which is apparently becoming my “thing”) but when I got there he was waiting outside because that night they had league bowling and no open lanes. He asked me where else he could take a smelly girl, but before I could answer he said, “how about Red Bones?”
It was music to my BBQ-and-cornbread-loving ears.
We had beers and ate some delicious food (steak tips, mashed potatoes and broccoli for me) and I was delighted at how nice of a time I was having. The conversation moved along very easily, and we both seemed very comfortable with each other. After dinner when I tried to cross the street and head home, he said that if I’d like to walk with him to his place, he’d drive me home. SWOON.
On the short walk to his place, we passed a bar that had a few huge TVs with sports on them. On one of them was playing the Syracuse Basketball game, a team which, due to growing up in Syracuse, I am an undying fan of. I tried to glance in and see the score and Mark said, “Is there an SU game on tonight? Who are they playing?” I blurted out, “GEORGETOWN CAN YOU READ THE SCORE I DON’T HAVE MY GLASSES.”
He laughed, mentioned that he had gone to SU for undergrad, and said, “come on, we’ll watch the second half in my living room.”
So we sat on his couch and watched SU lose painfully. After the game, without trying to make a move, he got up, jingled his keys and said, “ok, want me to take you home?”
I don’t know if it was because I kept insisting that I smelled awful, but even as I got up out of the car he didn’t try anything, except to say, “can we do this again soon?” I smiled and agreed, and walked inside. I was a kind of shocked at how disappointed I was that he didn’t try to kiss me.
The next day I got a text from him wanting to know what I was doing the following Monday. Which, IF YOU’RE KEEPING TRACK, was Valentine’s Day. In the text he referred to it as “that dreaded holiday, ” and after some hemming and hawing, I agreed that I didn’t want to drink alone in the dark that night. My only demand was that it not in any way shape or form resemble anything close to romantic.
And then I realized that it was possible that I liked him a lot more than I’d let myself think.
