music from India

Holy. Fuckshit.

Jack and I are going out again on Saturday, and I still can't even believe what the fuck just happened. Fate? Think you're funny? BECAUSE I THINK YOU ARE HILARIOUS MY FRIEND!

I get free walk-ins at the salon-- anything, free. If nobody's booked the space, it's mine. Hair color, cuts, pedicures, manicures, spa services, anything. I usually don't utilize the privilege but it's been a rather stressful week, so I decided to go in and get a massage done. Exactly what I needed, perfect.
Somewhere between the facial cleansing and the foot massage I decided I would pop into the bookstore next to the salon and see if Jack was working. I'd been playing around with the idea of texting him saying "Hey, you know I still owe you a cup of coffee..." but since I'm not free until Saturday, I thought I should put it off until at least tomorrow so I didn't sound like a complete freak. Being next door to the bookstore made me decide to say "FUCK IT" and strut inside, hunt him down and nonchalantly ask if he'd like to marry me and have lots of sex and babies.
Well, maybe not ask in those words exactly. But at least coffee or dinner.
So I got out of the salon after getting my hair fixed, and, looking absolutely spectacular, lit a cigarette and promptly chickened out and made for the bus stop, beating myself up the entire time. Alright, I was thinking to myself, when I get on the bus I'll whip out my phone and text him. That should make amends with myself, yes? 
And you'll never guess who comes walking my way.

Nevermind, you probably already have, BUT DON'T RUIN IT FOR ME, OKAY?
Jack and one of his friends (whose name I didn't get... damn it.) are walking towards me on the sidewalk about a block away, looking all cool and hip like they do. Nobody could mistake that hat, nobody.

"You. Have. GOT. To. Be. Shitting. Me."
^^^That was my mantra I repeated under my breath about fifteen million times until we meet up, Jack and I pointing at each other like we're the hero and arch nemesis from a comic book.
Accuse each other of stalking the other, playful banter, yada yada yada.
So we all explain what we're doing tonight ("Vodka and darts? Yeah, nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with that." "Well what are you doing?" "On my way home to finish up some writing and eat a lot of amazing food."), and when Jack's friend realizes I'm on my way home he offers me a ride since they'll literally be passing my apartment on their way back to Jack's anyway.
I found it interesting that Jack made it a point to hang back and walk next to me the entire way back to Friend's car (we'll just call him Friend. I mean, it's not like he's going to read this and get offended anyway... Friend, if you're reading this, I'm sorry I didn't get your name, I feel absolutely terrible and I offer a thousand apologies. Happy?). I also kind of found myself sighing when he went out of his way to pet a cat on the street. The PETA activist that I am just couldn't help it.
Sitting in the back seat directly behind Jack was a serious mindfuck. I have a really bad habit of just bursting out laughing whenever I'm with someone I'm interested in... I don't know why, it's like those people that cry when they're angry, but that's what I do. I only burst out laughing twice and was able to hide it both times, THANK THE FSM, so I looked relatively cool and hip and awesome in the back seat while Jack was checking me out in the mirror. So glad I decided to wear this shirt today, so glad.
When we got to my building and the music had been somewhat turned down enough to hear the thoughts going through our own heads, I leaned forward and muttered the line I'd been reciting for two days in Jack's ear-- "So I still owe you a cup of coffee."
"You do. When are you free?"
"You busy Saturday night?"
"I work until 8:30."
"And I'm out at 5."
"Great, I'll call you."
So with a sly smile at Jack and a thank-you to Friend for the ride home, I sauntered off towards my building knowing damn well he was still grinning like I left him.

...so that was about ten minutes ago. :)
There's a weird part of me that's dying to know if he said anything to Friend after I was gone. "I really like her," or "She's incredibly interesting" or even "I'd really like to have hot, sticky passionate sex with her." Just something.
Yeah, I really hope they're talking about me. Hopefully not involving the phrase "butterface". That would be nice.

SATURDAY NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!1