We went out on a date. He had to work that day and he wasn’t done until 10PM and the minute he was done, he asked if he could call me. I was on the toilet but I answered the call anyways and muted myself so I could flush the toilet. It was late but he still wanted to hang out. I’m cool with that; you see, I was still having a sugar high from my date with the girls that day, so I didn’t care that it was late. I was infectiously happy and ready to run just about anywhere. I told him that I didn’t care how late it was if he wanted to hang out then we could hang.
I also happened to have forgotten that I had left my phone charger in Lucy’s possession. I quickly asked her for her address to that I could retrieve it. He scrambled on over to our meeting place (Longfellow Elementary) and we drove off for Lucy’s place. After retrieving the charger, we debated on where to go loiter. In the middle of the night in a small town like Eau Claire, there just isn’t much to do. He suggested going to a park to just sit down and talk. I didn’t mind and offered Phoenix Park since I often frequent it on my midnight walks.
I simply could not sit still. I sat in the car trying not to make noises as we got closer and closer to the park. I explained to him how I was so excited with being out late and how I had so much energy. In that moment I set my heart on laying on the fluffy grass that resided in the maze area of Phoenix Park and rolling myself down the hill. I was set on rolling myself off the Earth and flinging myself into the sun so that I could be apart of J-Hope. I was mutha-fuckin SET!
It was no surprise that as soon as I ran to the grass it was sopping wet. The sprinklers were running all over and so the grass was all wet–unrollable. The hyper puppy that was me was very thoroughly upset. I whined to him like a small child and teasingly blamed it on him. We walked around trying to figure out where we would sit with the cement and the benches being so wet. As we kept walking towards the main pavilion that serves as the house for the Farmers Market, we found that the bench overlooking the river by the Madison Street bridge was, in fact, dry. We seated ourselves and he shivered, obviously cold on one of the first chilly nights of the fall. I gave him my newly bought jacket–as I am thick skinned and therefore do not feel the cold quite so quickly because of the layer of protective fat I have accumulate around myself–and we sat there talking about just about anything that would come to mind, underneath the shoddy lamplight. Not long after getting into our conversation I felt a spray come to my side and water fall on top of my head. Looking over, I saw that the sprinklers for the section we were seated at had just released themselves and all hell broke loose. We ran for cover at the pavilion, far from the sprinklers, not quite completely soaked from head to toe with water. We laid down on the cement underneath the stars, just staring at it. We looked and looked, trying to make sense of it. Every now and then we would grunt, drying up from the corny jokes. Eventually, I got up to remove the trash that I had been holding and we moved onto the maze area.
We laid on the ground looking up at the stars just as we had at the pavilion. He wrapped himself in an army blanket that his grandma had placed in his car–he was shivering like crazy but was trying not to show it. As we talked about the stars and tried to make sense of them, in the corner of my eye I thought I saw something fall from the sky.
“Did you see that?” he asked.
That’s right, ladies and folk-abies. We both saw a shooting star. It was probably 1 in the morning? At that point I couldn’t help but think “FML” over and over again. Everything about this was surreal. I couldn’t help but laugh at how incredibly ridiculous all of this was and he couldn’t either. He sent me home after a while of more talking because we still had class that day (which we also had together). This was the epitome of lame rom-com. Same class, similar clothes, similar personalities, sprinkler scene, stargazing scene and then a shooting star scene.
The whole situation was disgustingly cliche. But I still said yes.
Pink Potato signing off!