A few weeks passed before I started talking to Mr. Macarons online again. I didn’t offer up any explanation for my odd behavior, and he didn’t seem to want an answer. It was as if things never changed, but they had. I liked Macs A LOT. I needed to let my guard down and put myself out there. He needed to see the smart and funny girl that I am, not the awkward, standoffish person I was on my walk to class. Then maybe, just maybe, he might start to like me, too. It was just a matter of finding the right opportunity, the one I had hoped for all along.
I couldn’t just ask Macs out; it’d be weird. If I were him, I’d be suspicious of going out with the girl that wanted no part of me a month before. I kept a lookout for any posts by him in the “entertainment” section of the message boards. Maybe if he was going to a show or looking to play pool I could tag along? Nothing, no opportunities whatsoever, until I saw a post about Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. Macs was going to see it on Friday and wanted to know if anyone else planned on watching it. I waited a bit before responding; it was only Tuesday and I didn’t want to seem desperate. On Thursday morning I replied and said I’d go see it with him if he wanted company. I gave him an out and didn’t think I’d hear back. Friday afternoon he wrote me back. “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 9:30. What’s your address?” I literally froze.
Image via icanhascheezburger
It was go time! Good thing my roommate was out of town visiting his girlfriend; I was scurrying back and forth our apartment in nothing more than a towel, trying to tidy up all while contemplating what I was going to wear. It was the standard “I like this guy” thought process: Jeans would say I didn’t care enough and a dress would be too date-like, although I secretly hoped it was a date. A nicer skirt, a tank top, and flip-flops seemed like my best option. I ditched my glasses and wore contacts, I let my hair out of its usual tightly pulled ponytail, and I put on some makeup. I was just about to make a bowl of cereal—my too nervous to eat meal—when I remembered my parents. I completely forgot they were staying the weekend and wanted to have dinner.
Let me tell you it was the longest dinner of my life and probably the shortest for my family. All they wanted was a nice dinner with their daughter, and what they got was a more akin to boot camp. I was like a drill sergeant, pushing them to eat more and talk less. They couldn’t understand why I was in such a hurry or why they couldn’t meet this guy I was so anxious to go see. They dropped me off at my apartment and reluctantly went back to their hotel. I brushed my teeth and did far too many mirror checks while I waited…and waited…and waited.
Was I being stood up? Did I get the dates wrong?