This Shit Ain't a Fairy Tale

Wednesday, September 9

After work, I rushed home to get… ready, I wanted to shower and smell good and find my cute pajamas and be wearing that ‘minimal’ make-up look that takes longer to apply than ‘done up’ make-up takes.

He asked me to bring down the water bottle he’d left with me and I told him that it was still in the car so we decided to meet down in the garage. By the time I got down there, he had pulled his car up to mine.

We were going to the water store.

I jumped in the car, but not without a little misgiving… I remembered that day that Monie and I saw him with GiGi and he had opened her car door. You know how I feel about someone getting better treatment than me, but I let it slide for the time being.

I’d never been in his car before. It was clean, but ‘lived in’. The floor board carpet was threadbare and was so worn that it looked like any seriously applied pressure would leave his feet on the concrete like he was in Bedrock. But I like his car. It’s manly.

We pulled up at the water store, and even though I was in my pajamas I had to go in. Come on, I’d never been in one. He shook his head at my out-and-out excitement telling me for the first of a million times to come that I am so… girlish.

The store sold water that had all kinds of nutrients infused in it, but they also sold smoothies. And super strength smoothies. No Jamba Juice here. It was pineapple and spinach or beet and mango or coconut and artichoke. They had free samples on the counter and I couldn’t help but try the strange concoctions. I happen to hate coconut, but that pineapple and spinach was the business!

“See,” I told him, “I had to come in… you wouldn’t have brought me any samples if I had stayed in the car.”

“Yes, I would have,” he assured me as he walked me to my side of the car and opened the door for me.

:::

Back in his apartment, he kept shushing me. He had been getting complaints from the neighbor who lived directly above him and I was carrying on and giggling. The windows were wide open, too, because of the heat. Finally we agreed to go back to my place. The funniest part was him dragging his feet because he was going back to work in the morning: he was trying to figure out what time he had to get up in order to get back home to shower and stuff.

“You do know you live right down stairs, right? You don’t have to get up any earlier than you usually do.”

:::

Settled in at my apartment we could laugh and carry on as loudly as we wanted to. And then he did it – he started dreaming… out loud:

Could we live together?

Would we need a bigger apartment/home?

What would he do with his stuff?

How much money would we save living together?

With more than a little trepidation I started dreaming with him… Yes, we could live together… I didn’t think that we technically needed a bigger apartment, but would eventually want a two bedroom place because I believe a man should have a room for his… stuff. In a fit of pragmatism Glenn decided that he would sell everything – that way if it didn’t work out, he could just walk away. For the record, he got popped for that, we didn’t even live together and he was trying to figure out how to leave!

And how much would we save? A little over $500 a month.

Each.

That alone made me want to roll out the welcoming carpet, but I knew it was all dreams and fun. It was just interesting that it was coming from him. I started calling it ‘Happily Ever After’.

It was impossible to resist getting in on the act. I told him that if we did move in together, the first thing we would do is blow the extra money for six months. On anything and everything – trips to Vegas and San Diego and Palm Springs and San Francisco, football games and concerts. Then we’d start saving.

Warming to my topic, I got excited. I told him that we should go see his favorite football team, The Falcons, play in Atlanta. This season - screw the living together, I just wanted to take a trip. I told him that I would look at tickets and flights in the morning.

He smiled at me like a little boy on Christmas, telling me that he had not been in a relationship that allowed for spontaneity for so long – that all the women he dated had kids and as a couple they could never just get up and go. He told me that his next girlfriend definitely would not have kids. He said he wanted to be a priority for once.

I could certainly relate to that. (coughMilescough)

And then it was time for bed. He reminded me that I was not allowed to get up and go to the gym on his watch… he wanted to hold me until the last possible minute – plus he didn’t want me disturbing his sleep. As for me, I wanted to be held – the longer the better. I was becoming more comfortable with him, and there was less tossing and turning and more sleeping… oh, and some tussling which is his code word for ‘relations’.

So after the lights were turned off he kissed me and loved me and tussled with me and held me… and then we slept.