~Thursday, September 24, 2009

Truth Serum

"I don't like your friends," Christopher announced as we left the bar. We had met up with the guys from last week plus one German visiting from out of town.

I was crushed. We had recently talked about his guy friends and he confirmed that all 6 of them had moved out of the state, returning home for family support in a lost economy. I was hoping that he would like my friends and get to actually spend some guy time with them.

"Why?" I asked, trying not to show my disappointment.

"I don't like the way they talked about women," he shrugged.

I stopped. My feet stopped, my head stopped and my heart stopped. It was 2 a.m. and raining and I was getting soaked. Of all the reasons to not like my friends, I wouldn't even rank their leering of women in the top 50. Maybe because I knew it would never involve me or affect me. When the group gets together, it feels like a boy's club. The boy's friendship is first and foremost. Girlfriends are temporary and always on the periphery. Never being a girlfriend, I never noticed.

The fact that Christopher not only noticed, but was turned off by it, made him jump about 3 notches on my post. My last boyfriend thought it was okay to use physical force to get his way. This one didn't even like objectification. I had no idea he felt that way, or was capable of feeling that way.

"I like The German the best," he continued. "Guy is the worst of them; he's a downright asshole."

I pretty much agreed. We walked into the bar next door to the one we just left to have a night cap before going home. Now it would be just the two of us. This place was brightly lit and had a friendly female bartender, a stark contrast from the one we just left. We immediately liked this place better and I noticed it is a part of the chain that I go to with my girlfriends Harvey and Dee. The friends that Christopher did like.

We grabbed two beers and began playing an impromptu game of 10. As in, how much do you like this on a scale of 1 to 10.

"Okay," Christopher starts. "How good looking am I on a scale of 1 to 10?"

I blushed, "Easy!" I opened my mouth to say 10, but then decided not to give it away. "8 and a half... 9!"

"Really?" he asked, pleased.

"What about me?" I asked. If you ask me to rank myself, I would say 4 - 6. I am completely, forgettably average.

He thought about it for a moment, which honestly scared me. "7.9," he decided.

"I'll take it!" I laughed as I pounded my fist on the table.

"When my friend called me about meeting you, he said you were 'alright.'"

"Well, I'd take 'alright' too," I said. I see nothing wrong with alright. More pleasing than not. Mildly attractive. Not to mention his friend met me before I figured out what a flat iron was.

"But your personality—I'd give that a 10," he elaborated.

And for the second time that night, I was too stunned to speak. He didn't have to do that. We weren't at that part of the game yet. Besides, our entire relationship is based off of me saying inappropriate things to inappropriate people at inappropriate times. To illustrate, about an hour beforehand I asked one of my guy friends if he came out of the closet after college. He still maintained he was straight as Christopher laughed so hard he cried. I find that character trait hardly worthy of a 10.

"How much do you like me? 1 to 10," I asked. And that's the question that has been on my mind. Am I special?

Christopher got serious, "You can't ask that."

"Well, I did. And I am," I chirped.

"Nope. Off limits."

"Do you like me this much?" I asked as I squeezed my index finger and thumb close together in front of my eye. "Or do you like me this much?" I arched my back and spread my arms out as wide as I could.

"No," he nervously laughed.

"Yes!"

"Fine, I like you this much," he choked as he extended his arms almost all the way before tucking them back in his lap.

"Could you love me?" I swear, it just came out. I never intended to ask him or anyone this, but I am a 7.9 with a 10 personality and he liked me this much.

"What?" he reeled. Poor Christopher with all my demanding questions.

"I'm not asking if you do, just, in the history of the world," I paused, "Could you?"

"Yes."

8 comments:

Dawn said...

This makes me smile. :)

I love that you're cracking that hard shell of his.

thuraiyya said...

been following your blog for a few weeks now. Yeah it makes me smile too :-) things are looking good. And i don't know you at all but from the way you write and the things you say, your personality rates 7 to 8... But i don't know you that well to be so sure lol. All the best with the two of you

LizSara said...

I think i love him!

You've always been a 10 to me babe x

AmyB said...

Calling him to task - I love it! Hey, if we don't talk about what scares it, we will be scared off forever and never gain anything from it. Good for you, Sarah!

Lpeg said...

Haha poor Christopher! But good for you. Definitely made me crack up with the closet comment and the love comment! I'm definitely finding out that talking about things just makes it better.

Paige Jennifer said...

That high pitched squeal that made all neighboring dogs howl? Me.

Aritza, Goddess of .. said...

Swwooooooon ! Oh wow, he's really doing good these days, uh ?! Yay :)

SuvvyGirl said...

Insert silly girl squeel noise. This made me smile and I need it after losing my dog. Very happy for you!

 

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