(AN: thanks for the compliments. And the advice. Very very good advice. I'm talking Dear Abby worthy. Anyways, thank you.)
… and yet I have a date. I, Paris Gellar, have a date. A definite sign of decrease in the standards of human society. Next thing you know they'll be letting goats in the supreme court. Although some people in there already have the intelligence equivalent to a herd of cows on slaughterhouse day. But that's not the point.
I have a date. Wow, that feels good to say.
I have a date I have a date IhaveadateIhaveadate—
"I have a date," I said out loud. Several people turned around in their chairs to look at me like I'd grown an extra head. But I didn't care. You know why?
I have a date.
By golly, I have a date— and I'm insane, dear god I'm starting to say by golly in my head. Arghh… damnit damnit damnit...
Oh no. I'm starting to break out into hives. Now would be a good time to go to the bathroom.
"Okay Paris," I muttered to myself, once inside the bathroom, "now just because you have a date this an extremely attractive… male specimen under 72…who's vocabulary consists of more than a mere eight words…" Ah! Focus Paris, "does not make it liable for your intelligence level to drop below that of a thermos."
"You're right. It should be a heating pad, at least."
I let out this sort of mangled yell.And as scenerios involving bathroom massecres and hooded men carrying blunt hedge clippers ran through my head, I find myself face to face with--
"Gilmore! Holy crapmake some noise."
Rory smiled, "So I hear our Paris here has a date? Is this the same Paris that organized a revolt two days before the Sadies Hawkins Dance? Which, might I add, was made up of kidnapping all female counterparts and handing them '50 and still single' brochures complete with 'men are slime' bumper stickers."
"Actually, they were posters. 12 by 12."
"Inches?"
"Feet."
"Good god you've sure come a long way."
A different voice sounded behind me, "Paris."
Letting out a very unflattering yelp simliar to the noise of that of a cat dying, I turned around, "Why does everyone insist on sneaking up on me? Do I have 'Hi I'm Acousticophobic' written on my forehead! And you're in the girl's bathroom Doyle."
Rory quirked an eyebrow, "Doyle?"
I glared, "Quick question, is there something you're not telling us or did you not see the sign that says 'Ladies Room' in big letters on the door?"
"No actually, the toilet paper in the men's room gives me rashes."
Rory grimaced, "Oookay. A little too much bonding here. I'll see you later Paris."
Doyle was looking at me all funny, "So… you and… Jamie?"
"Yes. I have a date. With Jamie. I have a date with Jamie. Wow, that feels good. You should try saying that. Only not with Jamie. Only I'm allowed to say Jamie. Otherwise it'd be weird. Unless you want to be with Jamie, then it's not our dating lives we'll be discussing, it's your funeral arrangements. Personally, I recommend the spot by the--
"Paris, Jamie is going to have sex with you."
...So?
"So?"
He looked startled,"So…"
"It's inevitable to have sex in some point during your relationship, isn't it? Unless you're Louise, then there's no relationship matter to discuss. It's more animalistic instincts combined with a Wham Bam thank you Ma'am in the principal's coat closet."
Doyle furrowed his eyebrows, an action that drew unneeded attention to the zit in the centered smack dab in the middle of his forehead, "It's just that I overheard him talking about—
"About? About? Well don't leave me hanging!"
"I didn't. You interrupted—
"Oh god he's cheating on me isn't he! That little—
"No! No I can assure you there's no cheatage," he added quickly, "That I know of."
"Then what?"
"Never mind. Just be careful."
"Oh sure. That helps a whole lot."
Unfortunately the conversation was cut short by shrill cry of the bathroom lady when she saw Doyle. I forgot to tell you she has Androphobia. The fear of men. That's partly why she works in the girl's bathroom.
Come to think of it, her Androphobia started when a guy offered her a ride home one day. And asked her out.
I'm starting to see a pattern.