Welcome, gentle readers. So last week, Angel talked to Dustin on the phone. Dustin warned her about Jeff's reputation as a ladykilling cad. Then Angel talked to Jeff on the phone. Jeff used some smooooth lines on Angel and they decided to go on a date. SQUEEEEEEEEEE! Today, Angel goes on that date. But first, she has to buy underwear. Yes, you read that right. Oh how I wish I had never written this one.
Chapter 57: One Night (Part I)
The urge to buy fancy underwear had never really struck Angel. [it’s all downhill from here, folks]. Angel was a simple cotton skivvies kind of girl. Sure, they were pretty colors and none of them came above her bellybutton or anything horrendous like that, but they were all very … polite. But there was something about Jeff that made her feel a deep need for thongs. [oh gross. I’m sorry, everyone.]
She felt something akin to self-consciousness as she browsed through the store. What was too much when it came to these kinds of things? How could these be comfortable [yeah, they can’t]? Did she really expect Jeff to see them anyway? That last question was not up for discussion … she was simply not thinking about what might or might not happen with Jeff.
She finally settled on a lacy black number. Sexy, but not overdoing it.
She wore a sheer black tank top [doesn’t that mean it’s see-through? I’m somewhat fashion illiterate] and an electric blue skirt and knee-high boots, also recent purchases. Her hair fell in soft layers [holla, 1998!] around her face and her lips shone with raspberry gloss.
“I’m pretty damn hot,” she said to her reflection. Why had it taken her so long to show some cleavage? [wow. Again … I’m sorry, readers.]
Jeff arrived six minutes late. Angel had never felt so acutely aware of the passing of minutes. When the knock finally came on her hotel room door, Angel had to force her hands to stop shaking.
“Be cool, lady,” she told herself as she opened the door.
Jeff looked amazing. His hair was pulled back, revealing the patterned slashes of sideburns. He wore a long-sleeved button-down shirt over stylish jeans. One arm was tucked behind his back.
“Hey Jeff,” Angel said, ushering him in.
“Hello, sexy.” Angel noticed the way his gaze quickly swept over her body before he met her gaze [super classy]. She smiled inwardly. “I know we’re just chilling, and not on a date, seeing as how I’m a wrestler and all, so I didn’t bring you flowers. But I did bring you this.” He produced a small brown paper bag from behind his back.
Angel smirked at him and opened the bag.
“A rubber ducky?”
“A Baltimore, Maryland rubber ducky.”
“It sure is. Thank you, Jeff. Its pained squeaks will always remind me of this non-date.”
“Ouch?”
“I’m only kidding. Thank you, really.”
“You look gorgeous.”
“You look pretty good yourself.”
“Shall we?”
She took his extended arm and locked the door behind her. [how many hotels require you to lock the door behind you? Don’t tell me she suddenly transported to her house again]
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“This is my favorite restaurant in the Inner Harbor—not too touristy, don’t usually have to worry about fans. Fabulous crab cakes.”
“Good to know!”
“So what’s your story, Angel?” He asked, pushing her chair in for her.
“Hmm … what to say … well, I’m a nurse. I travel around with WCW. Guess it’s easier and cheaper for them than having the EMTs on call.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well … I guess it saves money by …”
“No, I mean I had no idea you were in the business.” [I was starting to forget myself, actually]
“Why else would I have sworn off wrestlers? Ohh … you thought I was a ring rat, eh?” [a “ring rat” is basically a wrestling groupie]
“Well, you were hanging out at a hotel bar.”
“Yeah. Bad move on my part. It just seemed like a happening spot. You obviously have no problem with ring rats, seeing as how you’re sitting here.”
“Pleading the fifth.”
“No problem.”
“Been burned by a bunch of the guys, huh?”
“Fifth applies to me too.”
“Cool with me.” They clinked glasses. “I’m actually pretty relieved that you’re on the inside. Now we can talk about something besides …”
“Whether or not it’s fake.”
“Amen.”
“I’ve treated enough gaping wounds to know how real it is.”
“And you don’t have the glazed-over fan look in your eyes.”
“Nope.”
“You actually look more cynical than anything else.”
“Check.”
“The reason for which is …”
“Part of that fifth I plead.”
“Gotcha. And how do you usually react to the starry-eyed fan-variety eyes?”
“Fifth it is.”
“Okay then.” Angel laughed. “So let’s not talk about wrestling or wrestlers or wrestling fans. Or any permutations of the above.” [sounds like it will mesh well with the usual fare on this blog]
“Agreed. What’s your favorite band?”
“Pearl Jam. What’s your favorite movie?”
“The Shawshank Redemption. What’s your favorite food?”
“Lasagna. What’s your favorite season?”
“Winter.”
“Winter? That’s the worst! I’m from the south, so any time it gets below 60, I break out the winter coat.”
“Where in the south?”
“North Carolina.” [an obvious shout out to future me, no?]
“It’s gorgeous down there. I’ve always loved it when we traveled through it.”
“Yeah, I get a few weeks off coming to me I a little while. I can’t wait to get back there.”
“Ugg. I need a vacation too.”
“Well, if you get one, feel free to drop by NC.”
“Maybe I will,” Angel said, returning his grin.
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NOTES:
1) I've never actually seen The Shawshank Redemption. I have no idea why I decided it was Angel's favorite movie. I would, however, like to point out that Pearl Jam is Jeff Hardy's favorite band and lasagna is his favorite food. I did some background research. That is so, so, so much more sad than when I did this kind of stuff at age 13.
Allright, folks ... I could write more, but I've got to hustle myself off to a conference in Hotlanta. Apologies in general for the lateness of updates recently. Busy, busy, busy, busy. Blarg. Things should settle down here in a month or so.
Coming up next ...
Angel and Jeff continue to have a date. It features "charming" banter and further grossness re: Jeff's ineluctable attraction to Angel. You might want to have some Pepto nearby when you read it. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part II)
2 comments:
sheer definitely does mean see through.
"Not too touristy" so "don't have to worry about fans"? Ummm..,.. you're famous, it doesn't matter if thep place is touristy- YOU'RE the tourist in this city, in this instance, right?
No idea she was in the business?? then why does she know wrestlers in bars who attempt to defend her honor?
I love that this is your first acknowledgement that wrestling might be fake.
"oh, you're from 8 hours from here? oh, I've driven through there, I sure would Love to stop by while you're on your vacation for a booty call and then continue driving through."
but the best part- by far- sideburn slashes. :)
Good questions all around, Amy. I had never actually thought about how completely ridiculous it was that either (A) Jeff didn't realize Dustin was a wrestler or (B) Jeff didn't connect the fact that Dustin 'n Angel were bff to the fact that Angel was probably involved in wrestling.
It gets worse.
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