Hot Water

Remember when I used to give play-by-play recounts of my interactions with F? I swore I would never do it again (well, in my head) with any boy (or girl or primate or amphibian...). Alas.

Today, Potential Officeworks Robber Guy (PORG) was working (in his Officeworks uniform). First, I looked at him (casually) for a while. His face is dopey and this makes me feel less aesthetically inferior. Later in the evening, I asked him if he knew where a certain type of glue stick was (JUST JOKES, I KNEW WHERE IT WAS ALL ALONG) and he was all, "All the glue sticks are in aisle four."

Actually, I take it back. I originally asked another of the nightfillers working in the same aisle as PORG where aforementioned glue stick was. He was unsure (amateur). I knew that PORG would jump in (being new, one feels one needs to prove thyself) and thus I laid my lady trap.

PORG was all too gentlemanly in his vocalization of the location of the glue sticks but I thought a little flippant  (obviously he needs to try harder to get with this). Is this end of something new (to the tune of the classic High School Musical song)?

Speaking of guys, I may have met my soul mate at the Nike Factory store in Harbourtown the other day? I went in to return something for my brother (please, like I would actually shop there for myself) and there he was, standing about my height (sadly) but with such an angelic face. I theorize that he was of the Jewish faith (at one point do my generalizations towards Jewish people turn from innocently ignorant to straight up anti-Semitic?) which was potentially consolidated by his name (which I won't put here so he doesn't get stalked, poor child).

Later that day, after Icey Ice (so damn icey), I forced Big Michelle and Little Mishelle to go back to the Nike Factory store so we could "browse." This was the following response:

Big Michelle: Oh my God, can we not? It's UPSTAIRS.

We spent a further five minutes laughing at this. She then said this:

Big Michelle: Well, if we actually had something to buy there then it would be alright to go... Actually, I'm thinking of buying some running clothes.

And later...

Big Michelle: I feel bad. Let's go to Nike.

We went back and hung around the ladies' section (originally, somewhere in men's then we decided it might be less suspicious if we went to an area that catered more for our SEXUALITY). I could not see him.

I said to the girls, "Never have I been so disappointed in my life."

And then, the moment of truth. A culmination of that afternoon's initial thrill coupled with the devastating disappointment of walking into the Nike Factory store the second time.

"Over there are more Nike people," Little Mishelle said, concealing her excitement (or not... We all know Little Mishelle likes to appear hipster and cool at all possible times) under a thin veil of nonchalance. I looked over, a lump in my throat (that's what she said) and there... And there...

He was.

Then we left the Nike Factory store and took an (un)pleasantly hot bus ride home.

J