We Met the Night of the Pudgy Man and the Red Boxing Gloves.
Hey, wanna grab a drink?
her: Hi… I think I do? We met at that bar that one time two years ago on that night with the pudgy man… in red boxing gloves?
him: Yes- the red gloves! How could I forget? Such a hero. I backed up my phone *TG* and just refreshed my contacts and saw your number, and wanted to give you a buzz. Are we on?
her: I don’t see why not. Where do you want to meet? Please don’t pick something basic or ask me to pick. I secretly know zero to few eccentric restaurants and bars and will probably disappoint myself by picking Shake Shack.
him: How about this sexy, not-too-mainstream-so-you-can’t-judge-me-type-of-place called, Yvonne’s?
her: I’m actually not vomiting out my car window right now (but still texting)! How are you, BTW?
him: Pretty good. Just having one of those 2 year existential crises and struggling with a bloated ego. Otherwise, eating a lot of cheap, foreign food and my Fantasy Football team is crushing it. HBY?
her: Things are going! I’m trying hard not to hate my job and have been focusing all of my negative energy on my boss’s butt pockets.
him: LOL. I used to focus my negative thoughts on my nanny’s chest. I would chuck cheerios down her shirt during the peak of snack time.
her: YES! Love it. He has a cute butt, but the pockets! They just seem too saggy to me; just not right. I’m hoping to slam dunk one of my paper clips in there at some point- currently in a small contest with a few of my work husbands. Making friends, clearly.
him: No way! I have some friends trying new things to feel like they’re bettering themselves, too. Good for you.
her: Paperclips and sheer distraction is a phase I’m in right now. I’m actually transitioning out of the bring-a-green-smoothie-to-work stage. It’s so exhausting; there is way too much bullshitting with that one.
him: Let me guess….
her: Yep, I end up throwing out the smoothie once mid-morning hits and I make a break for it and lob a Union Square bacon cider donut into my mouth with full disclosure.
him: Nice. I wish girls would do that with my penis.
her: LOL. BTW so sorry for pretending that I had the norovirus and was allergic to dog hair the last time we almost had drunk sex! Totally my bad.
him: Gotcha. And no worries, I wasn’t too amped about it; big Pats game was happening on Sunday and I wanted to pregame the pregame. I have a lot of passions. I also ate Chipotle for lunch and things just weren’t settling well.
her: Cool. See you Friday at 7:45pm?
him: Friday it is!
Um, did you make it home OK? I forgot to walk you to the T. I’m such a dick.
her: No worries at all! I carry hand sanitizer that sprays and it usually has a pretty good range. So glad we got to see our pudgy guy friend. I wonder where his boxing gloves went?
him: So hilarious. He probably sold them to a dashing, dreaming to-be boxer and fled the scene with a shameful sense of loss. Hopefully he recognized the good deed. Whatta’ hero.
him: We’ll have to keep an eye out next time we’re bar hopping…
her: (…!!?! Stay. Cool). Thanks for the drinks! I’m so surprised we got along like we did. You’re a lot smarter than I remember and demonstrated great subordinate eye contact.
him: Yeah, it was a solid time for sure. I loved when you clocked the waiter by accidentally in the groin. You’re a lot funnier than I remembered.
her: God. We prob should have gave him a fat tip…
him: LOL. I gotta go- raging in Fenway.
him: (WTF…!?). I cannot believe I just told you that. Usually I just don’t respond once I feel that I’m done talking. Did a tectonic plate suddenly shift? I’m on unsteady grounds, here.
her: Maybe I’m the iceberg to your touring ship. Ick. That was such a cheesy, morbid metaphor. Anyway. I gotta do my face mask and giddily tell my girlfriends about our date and how you almost held the door for me twice! Night.
her: Let’s definitely meet up again and hunt down the red boxing gloves.
him: Totes. I’ll put up a fight for ’em. The dashing dreamer is getting better at boxing someone’s teeth out everyday. Time is a tickin’.
her: How brave of you. OK. I’m actually going to bed this time after I manage to wash off my green mask of glory.
him: We’re both heroes, too. Night.