One of the benefits of being scatterbrained is that you're forever making exciting discoveries... like chapters of stories you wrote and forgot to post ...
Five PM, and my apartment was cleaner than it had been since I moved in. I even stopped by Wal-Mart and bought a new set of sheets, which meant I was either optimistic or delusional; I couldn't decide which. At any rate, they were washed and on the bed, and on my dresser were my other purchases, a set of three candles for atmosphere - like I said, optimistic or delusional; the jury was still out on which. I'd already showered, shaved, and dressed, so all that remained was a call to the pizza man - that, and the longest hour of my life waiting for her to arrive.
Yes, I was nervous, or whatever you call that state of anxiety hanging between "nervous" and "hysterical," but for the first time I had good reason to think that I, Greg Sanders, had a serious shot at winning the heart of the lovely Sara Sidle. With that thought, I smiled and switched the channel to SPIKE-TV. Anything to make the time pass a little faster.
The pizza arrived at five forty-five. About ten til six I decided to brush my teeth again, then applied one last spritz of cologne on my way out of the bathroom. The butterflies in my stomach had morphed into pterodactyls, and my hands were trembling like a little girl's. I shake when I'm really anxious, always have. I have always hated it, especially now on what may be one of the most important evenings of my life.
And then I heard a faint knock. A glance in the mirror - not too bad - and I went for the door. She was unbelieveably hot in a lacy deep purple tank top and black jeans, smelling faintly of Estee Lauder Pleasures and baby shampoo. Without forethought I drew her close. She wrapped her arms around me to return the hug. 'I love this woman so much,' I thought with a smile, ' and now here she is in my arms.' "You made it," I said aloud, and I realized my voice was quavering as well.
"I smell the pizza - what movie are we watching?"
"Ummm... I was thinking The Village, actually... but I have a lot of others if you've seen it."
She smiled. "The Village sounds good. I understand it's a strange movie."
"It is that - but you'll have to see for yourself."
She looked around. "I like your apartment. You have a great kitchen - and you're a decent housekeeper."
I wasn't about to let her know that it had taked me most of the day to achieve 'decent,' so I just smiled. "I don't know about the housekeeping, but my favorite thing about this place is the price."
"I like it. It's comfortable."
"So, why don't you have a seat. I'll bring over the pizza... and what would you like to drink - beer? wine? Coke?"
She smiled. "Coke would be great"
The movie was good, and as the closing credits rolled I made my move...