I will be single forever
There is a cute guy sitting next to me at the bar. Fuck. We make eye contact in the mirror once, twice, thrice, an infinity of accidental gazes. My friend is on the other side of me, gabbing with some people she knows, paying no attention to my suddenly dire situation. The guy keeps casually turning his head in my direction. I see this via the mirror and my excellent peripheral vision. Why is he doing this? Is he trying to make real eye contact? Strike up a conversation? Tell me to stop creeping on him in the mirror? Make out with my face? Suddenly the drink coaster on the bar is incredibly interesting. I should stare it it for five minutes and not talk to anyone, ever.
Finally my friend is ready to leave and we walk out of the bar, our bag of take-out drunk food dangling, untroubled, from my hand. I could have carried another bag, many bags, twenty bags. My hand is free to carry all the bags of drunk food, because it is always free. Nobody is holding it.
“That guy was really cute,” An embarrassing tumble of words from my mouth. “I should have said something. He was smiling at me. He seemed nice. He was really cute. That scruffy beard? I should have…why didn’t I say something? I’m pathetic. Ugh. Why didn’t I just say hello? What is wrong with me? He was so cute. What is wrong with me? I’m an idiot.”
My friend is endlessly supportive and agrees that I am an idiot.
“We could go back inside!” Her voice is too chipper. She has exchanged numbers with three boys this evening.
“Absolutely not!” It is a horrifying suggestion. At the thought of actually talking to this boy, who I think is cute and who I think also thinks I am cute, I can suddenly hear my heartbeat in my ears and there is no sound anywhere else and my cheeks are burning and the world has gotten smaller and smaller around me until it’s just a scary black space and where even am I right now and oh god oh god I can’t actually speak to this person who likely thinks I am disgusting and hideous and we have to get home immediately.
Five minutes later, I am at the kitchen table slathering bbq ranch over all the food in sight before shoving it in my mouth.
