Page 84 of June: Jess' Story

“Nope, it’s me.” Though I’m probably still a rando.

“Haha, alright. So…what are you doing?”

It lasted 39 minutes. And then he was calling me every night. We talked about childhoods. (Mostly me talking about that bit.) We talked about our favorite everythings. Favorite season, favorite vacation. We talked big and small. And I’d never shared as many things with anyone as I did with him.

So standing in my hotel room tonight, getting ready to go on a first date with the person I think might bemy person, I can’t sit still. I’m up, I’m down. I’m changing my shoes.Loafers. That seems like a DC thing. But I’m not a DC girl. Prada pumps are the right call. But what if I over exaggerated his height in my mind and I tower over him? You will not tower over Alexander Palomino. Probably ever.

The inner monologue goes on for far too long when I finally allow myself to look at the clock and realize I’m going to be late.Fuck!I purposefully wouldn’t let myself look because time was ticking by so slowly. Until it wasn’t. Prada heels it is because I’m grabbing my clutch and walking out the door like this is the moment that starts the rest of my life.

It feels like one of those nights when the stars align. When everything feels transcendent. And when I step into the loud and crowded bar, even though I’m nervous, I feel…sublime. Otherworldly. I’m about to have my real-life meet cute. Just like inSerendipity.

I spot him easily, standing at a high-top table. He’s definitely just as big as I remember, if not bigger. And he’s even sexier without the beard. (Don’t get me wrong — Alex plus facial hair is fucking delectable) But now I can see his face.Love that face.

I did not just think that.

I start moving towards him and it feels like it’s all in slow motion. I watch as some other guy joins him at his table and they start talking. They’re obviously familiar with one another, the way the other guy places a hand on Alex’s shoulder. Their backs are towards me, but the other guy is just a hair shorter, and with shoulders that aren’t nearly wide enough to be considered linebacker status like Alex’s.

They’re still talking when I finally get close, so I wait for the server carrying a large tray of drinks to walk between the tight tables in the crowded oyster bar so that I can pass around to be in front of them. And while I’m waiting, I hear…

“It’s not like that. She’s a nobody. Just need to check the box so I can leave. She’s just a fucking bump in the road. Fucking hate distractions like this.” Alex pauses to audibly scoff, “And she’s late.”

Wow. I actually take a step back. And then another. Honestly, it’s miraculous that I didn’t keel over and die because that’s exactly how I feel. Like I’m dying. This is worse than being catfished. He’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and funny, but he’s not actually interested? Fucking wasting my time, stringing me along? I turn and head back towards one of the other bars on the other side of the restaurant.

(Why does a restaurant have four different bars? Because when you live in DC, apparently it’s necessary to be drunk. Message received. Plus this place is fucking ancient. Literally the word “old” is in the name.)

“Excuse me!” I lean forward on the bar to get the bartender’s attention. When they notice me, I ask, “Shot of Don Julio?”Por favor. Rápido.I say that part in my head.

I can’t remember the last time my soul has been crushed like this. Not when Donny got Nicole pregnant (while we were together). Not when my mom died even. I want to cry so bad, but like fuck am I ruining how good I look for that man.

The bartender brings me the shot and a check, and I drop a couple twenties down. I slam back the shot, no lime or salt needed here. I throw my hair back over my shoulders and strut back to the oyster bar to make him regret making a fool out of me.

This time, the world doesn’t move in slow motion when I approach. This time he sees me coming, but there’s no glimmer in his eye, there’s hardly even an ounce of recognition. It’s not like the movies at all. It’s like meeting your distant cousin twice removed because your mom made you or something.

I give a sort of sickly sweet, fake smile (probably the same one I’ll use at my interview on Monday) and the fucker doesn’t even smile back. But his friend does. Well, okay then. I flash the friend a genuine smile and my cheeks heat because I want to cry that Alex wasn’t real.

“Hey!”Too much, tone it down.“Glad we could catch up.” I extend a hand to Alex. Business like. When he takes it, I make sure to firm up my grip. No limp hands here. Back straight, head high, nose up.

“Hey.” His tone is monotonous. Like this is just very much a generic acquaintanceship and not like I’ve spent more quality time connecting with him than I have with any other human being. Ever.

I turn my attention to the friend instead. “Hi, I’m Jess.” I extend my hand to him and he takes it, returning my genuine smile.

“I’m Damian, nice to meet you.” I notice a dimple pops when his smile finally breaks. That’s cute.

He’s cute. (The friend.) He has sort of moppish, reddish hair. I wouldn’t call it red, and I definitely wouldn’t call it orange, but also wouldn’t call it brown. And he’s tall, with a charming smile and a nice body. Wearing a suit that probably costs more than most people’s first car.

I walk around to stand on the side of the table closest to Damian, and set my clutch between Alex and myself. A physical barrier of sorts.

“First night in DC and I’m already meeting a cute local?” I lay it on thick. I can see Alex’s eye twitch out of the corner of my eye, but he says nothing.

“Nah, I wouldn’t call myself a local. I live across the border in Virginia. But cute, yes, I will accept that,” he says with a bit of a bashful chuckle.

As soon as Alex goes to interject, his phone starts ringing. Damian and I both look at him. There’s some sort of internal debate going on. Becausehe’s looking at his phone and looking at us, then the phone.

“You should take it. I’d hate to keep you from anything important!” I’m overselling it.

Alex just clears his throat, “I’ll be right back.” And as he walks away, I admire his ass in his jeans.Stop it.

“So…” I laugh awkwardly turning to face Damian. “Sorry I just got dumped on you.”