“Why don’t you give me your phone number so I can call you?”
“Okay. I don’t know why I got my phone out too. I guess to look at what my number is?”
“Hang on. I’m in the wrong menu. Wait. Clear. New contact. Okay, go.”
“You mean, now?”
I may have met my awkward match.
She was so cute I almost sat down next to her, just after my friend had introduced us. I’m an absolute sucker for huge, clear eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. I am even more of a sucker for girls who share names of spectacularly desirable female fictional characters. Let’s call this one Elizabeth Bennet.
“Sit down right here,” the friend on the opposite side of the booth had to remind me. I guess, sure. If you want to sit at a booth where a friend and a stranger are sitting opposite one another, I suppose politeness requires you to sit next to the friend, even if the stranger is remarkably hot. This is not only less anonymously invasive of personal space, but also has the advantage of allowing you to look at the strangers pretty eyes. “We’re just talking about Elizabeth’s boy problems.”
“I know!” says EB. “I’m such a disaster. Boys!”
Fortunately: “I like talking about emotions.”