I'm Studying You

What common sense fails to provide.

I don't even have to go into Walgreens to get my pride wrecked. Awesome!

Went for some Chinese food at lunch and decided a trip to Walgreens was necessary. Checked my email at the same time, because I can. And it makes me look disinterested, if not like a tool.

And wouldn't you believe it, but guess who is sitting on the curb at the corner of the building wasting her break on her cell phone suckin' down some Marb menthol lights...yeah, that chick. The one who always makes giving me a hard time seem like an artform, especially when I buy smokes...she looks like one of those women that maybe smoked when she was younger but quit and now thinks everyone should quit. Only, she hasn't quit. Ahhh yes...my Jessica.

Shake my head, walk past her into the store for a Dew and some toilet paper.

She's still sitting there. Oy vey when will this dude ever learn ? I pulled up a slab of concrete and sat beside her. It was actually interesting.

Get to know me and I'm a gravel trail, touchy-feely kinda brotha when I'm comfortable. With cashier-type chicks where my normal self tends to crash and burn at the first hint of being fucked with, I have a hard enough time making eye contact.

We talked about Chinese restaurants, jobs (no fucking kidding, are you for real?), how everybody in the store knows who I am (she says it's because I'm always in there; I insist she has something more to do with it than that), my seafood preference being either shrimp or fishsticks, her opinion on my Chuck Taylors having seen better days, the worst $175 I spent on dinner (I blamed it on the girl I dated, not our excessive consumption of Merlot...but the swordfish was awesome), and her thinking I should have just spent the money on new shoes, but I'm too nostalgic to part with them.

A lot to talk about in such a short period of time, now that I think about it.

Then the oddest shit happened. She gets up after her smoke and remarks how fast her break has flown by (with some comment about how fast time flies when you're with me or some other complementary shit) and proceeds to take flirtation up to the junior high level. She stands up and, while I'm still rockin' the curbside, playfully taps my shoulder one time with her foot in an attempt to push me over while not pushing me over. A lot of words right there to describe one simple two-second action, but it was hard enough to leave a footprint, which she then spent entirely way more time than necessary but not enough time for me to think of something slick trying to wipe it off my shirt. We exchanged a few quick barbs, I advised her against going back to work because I didn't want to go home (but what I meant was "I don't want this moment to end"), and before I got up she smacked the brim of my cap straight down on my grill. The only thing missing would've been me pushing her off the monkey bars and having a slapfight that evolves into a hug-and-kiss playfight fest.

We are but thugs to this nature of love. I'm probably making more of it than I need to, but what is life without a bit of occasional wishful thinking?