I was planning on writing a quick recap, but I think it's pretty easy to pick up where we left off ... it's not, like, The Brothers Karamazov or anything.
SO ... without further ado (I thought that was "adieu" for years, people)
CHAPTER 68 - Angel Arrives
Jeff's house was not quite the bachelor pad that Angel had pictured. Yes, there were three different video game systems and a miniature music studio in the form of a guitar hooked up to a computer [if that doesn't scream "bachelor pad!," I don't know what does], but that was about it in terms of stereotypical guy paraphernalia. The rest of the house was fairly nondescript.
"It's not much yet. I just bought it a year or so ago. Haven't had a lot of time to fix it up. Been on the road a lot."
"It's nice," Angel said. "Lots of potential."
Jeff laughed. "Potential! That's like a polite way of saying that it's not a total craphole." [LANGUAGE, Jeffery!]
"Craphole wasn't even in my mind. It doesn't look junky, it just looks slightly ... impersonal?"
"Like a hotel room."
"Exactly. We can't seem to get away from those, can we?"
"I guess not."
"So how was your trip down here?"
"Uneventful. Always a good thing."
"You didn't pick up any hitchhikers who turned out to be chainsaw-wielding maniacs?"
"How would I have not seen the chainsaw before I let him in?"
"He could have been wearing a bulky coat." [This sure is "witty" banter.]
"Very unsuspicious. Especially in this heat."
"Speaking of which, like any good hotel, I do have a pool. Wanna see it?"
"Totally."
Jeff led Angel through the house to the back patio. A gorgeous kidney-shaped pool sparkled from the middle of the lawn. [uhm, I know that's fancy and all, but the term "kidney-shaped" just kind of sucks the glamour right out of it].
"Ooh, that's beautiful."
"You did bring your swimsuit, didn't you?"
"Of course. You only reminded me a dozen times."
"Fantastic. Well, here's my plan. Tonight, I've got a Jeff-Hardy-authored dinner headed your way. Ranch dressing is involved, but I promise that other foods are involved. Tomorrow, my brother and a bunch of our friends are dropping by, but tonight's just you and me. We've go the pool, darts, like a hundred DVD's, and an embarrassment of riches when it comes to video games. [and also: my wang]. Do you play Madden?"
"Nope. Sorry. I was pretty good at Duck Hunt back in the day, though."
"I rocked at that. As long as I stood like six inches away from the TV, of course."
Angel laughed. "Cheater."
"How is that cheating? Everyone has the same advantage, provided that everyone else also stands six inches from the screen. So hey, dinner just has to go into the oven. It won't take long. Why don't I show you to your room so you can get settled in and whatnot?"
"Sounds good."
Jeff led Angel to the spare bedroom. It had a queen bed, a nightstand with a lamp, and not much else.
"Sorry," Jeff said. "This is even emptier than a hotel room. But if it's any consolation, you have your own bathroom. And my room is not much better in terms of decor."
"It's fine, Jeff. Feels like home!"
Jeff laughed. "Sad, sad. So this is your only bag or do you have more in the car?"
"Nope, that's it." [a vital plot point, no doubt]
"Great. Well I'll leave you to change." [for what? are they having a formal dinner? I didn't hear a description of a crystal chandelier, candelabras, a grand piano, and a twirly staircase as he showed her around]
"Sounds good." Angel took the bag from Jeff. As their hands touched, they both seemed struck by the same electricity. [oh glory ... here we go ...] Teh bag hit the floor and Angel drew in a sharp breath. She pulled Jeff closer to her and their lips met.
Before either one of them was completely aware of what was going on, they were on the bed, clothes well into the process of being completely removed.
"Angel," Jeff half-whispered. "I had candles. I have candles. And, like, romantic music and ..." his words were cut off by Angel.
"Don't need those, Jeff."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He grabbed her hand and placed it to his lips. "You're ... sure? About this, I mean? I don't want you to feel pressured or ..."
"Yes, Jeff. I'm sure. I want this. I want you." [uggggggggggggggggg]
"Allright, Angel. God knows I want you too. But even if we don't need candles, we do need something else." He rolled to the side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer to get a condom. [wait a minute ... he put condoms in the drawer of the nightstand in her bedroom? I mean ... hooray for safe sex and all ... but ... uhh ... presumptuous much?]
"Jeff?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad I'm here."
He laughed. "Me too."
__________________________________________-
NOTES:
1) I swear, that was the end. I'm not even censoring anything embarrassing. That's it. Exciting, no?
2) What kind of laugh do you think that was at the end there? A mischievous laugh? A "sexy" laugh? An evil laugh, like a cartoon villain?
3) I know it's been said before, but Angel dated Chris for a really long time, he was super duper nice and blah blah blah and she never even let him get past second base? I'm not saying that just because you're dating someone for a long time that you have to have a certain amount of physical frolicking, but it does seem a bit weird that Angel's pretty much ready to drop trou after knowing Jeff for like 40 seconds. Maybe it was the kidney-shaped pool.
COMING UP NEXT ...
Marie and Scott talk about things. We get some sort of hint as to what Marie is up to, but not really.
Join us next time for ... CHAPTER 69 - Revelry.
Showing posts with label Angel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angel. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2012
Friday, October 29, 2010
Chapter 66: Driving South
HOLY GUACAMOLE, Y'ALL!!
Look, I didn't forget. I just got massively sidetracked. I've been thinking about updating this for months. Months!!! And now, the time has come.
Ok, so where were we? Dang, it's been a while. Let's see ...
Justina and Chris are having relations even though Chris is clearly not over Angel, for some unfathomable reason. Alex is cheating on Dustin with Barry, who continues to be awesome. Marie/Violet/Nightshade is trying to lure Scott back into her Evil Web for some reason that probably has to do with Angel, and Angel is embarking upon a seriously gross "relationship" with Jeff "Armsocks" Hardy. Bobby, Felicia, and Mysterious Brother Danny have pretty much fallen off the face of the earth. Or maybe they're hanging out with Mr. P. and Brutus.
Well, now that we're all up to speed, let's get on with this mess.
Chapter 66: Driving South
Angel’s mind was unusually clear as the miles accumulated on her odometer. The farther south she drove, the less stressed she felt [that’s probably because there’s a lot less traffic down here]. She was escaping—albeit temporarily—to an unfamiliar place with a relatively unfamiliar person. [note to Angel: this also sounds like a set-up for a horror movie. Just saying]
“Well,” she reasoned to herself, “it’s not entirely unfamiliar … I mean, I’ve been there plenty of times for shows, but to stay somewhere other than a hotel … and with Jeff … that is of course, the unfamiliar thrill.” [good gravy, she even THINKS with ellipses.]
And, truth be told, she was way less apprehensive than she had any right to be. But Jeff didn’t intimidate her, and oddly enough, neither did the prospect of losing her virginity to him—what made Angel feel sick with anger, pain, and confusion was Chris. Driving away from Chris, therefore, seemed like the best idea in the world. She knew it was only temporary, but that fact did not deter her in the slightest.
She remembered when Marty had first suggested sex to her. [Was it before or after he had the flu for seven months?]. They had been dating for a while and, looking back on it, Angel thought that the notion of them having sex was probably way less monumental to Marty than it had been to her. She had been young—quite a few years younger than him—and just embarking upon a new career. Marty was sweet and warm [that was probably the fever], and always seemed perfectly content to wait until Angel was ready.
Until, of course, he cheated on her with Marie.
“Didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself,” she muttered to herself.
But that was the pattern, wasn’t it? Find a wonderful guy, be magically happy, keep him physically distant, get cheated on, find out from someone else.
But that would change with Jeff. The pattern would break. Jeff would get the reverse—her body, but not her heart.
She pulled into the gas station and filled the tank. [a pivotal plot point, no doubt] Before resuming her trip, she called Jeff.
“Hey there. Just letting you know I’m about forty minutes away, according to these directions.”
“That sounds great, Angel. I’m psyched. Hey, do you like ranch dressing?” [un-oh, this sounds kinky]
“Who doesn’t?”
“People with no taste, I guess. I’ll see you soon.”
Angel smiled, closed the phone [wooo flip-phones! I’ve still got one!], and started the engine.
NOTES:
1) I don't remember when I wrote this one, but it was obviously after the invention of non-Zack-Morris-sized cell phones. This fact is embarrassing.
COMING UP NEXT:
We get back into the Dustin/Alex/Barry plot as Chris tries to figure out what to do with his burdensome knowledge. There is a toaster involved. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 67: Continental Breakfast
Look, I didn't forget. I just got massively sidetracked. I've been thinking about updating this for months. Months!!! And now, the time has come.
Ok, so where were we? Dang, it's been a while. Let's see ...
Justina and Chris are having relations even though Chris is clearly not over Angel, for some unfathomable reason. Alex is cheating on Dustin with Barry, who continues to be awesome. Marie/Violet/Nightshade is trying to lure Scott back into her Evil Web for some reason that probably has to do with Angel, and Angel is embarking upon a seriously gross "relationship" with Jeff "Armsocks" Hardy. Bobby, Felicia, and Mysterious Brother Danny have pretty much fallen off the face of the earth. Or maybe they're hanging out with Mr. P. and Brutus.
Well, now that we're all up to speed, let's get on with this mess.
Chapter 66: Driving South
Angel’s mind was unusually clear as the miles accumulated on her odometer. The farther south she drove, the less stressed she felt [that’s probably because there’s a lot less traffic down here]. She was escaping—albeit temporarily—to an unfamiliar place with a relatively unfamiliar person. [note to Angel: this also sounds like a set-up for a horror movie. Just saying]
“Well,” she reasoned to herself, “it’s not entirely unfamiliar … I mean, I’ve been there plenty of times for shows, but to stay somewhere other than a hotel … and with Jeff … that is of course, the unfamiliar thrill.” [good gravy, she even THINKS with ellipses.]
And, truth be told, she was way less apprehensive than she had any right to be. But Jeff didn’t intimidate her, and oddly enough, neither did the prospect of losing her virginity to him—what made Angel feel sick with anger, pain, and confusion was Chris. Driving away from Chris, therefore, seemed like the best idea in the world. She knew it was only temporary, but that fact did not deter her in the slightest.
She remembered when Marty had first suggested sex to her. [Was it before or after he had the flu for seven months?]. They had been dating for a while and, looking back on it, Angel thought that the notion of them having sex was probably way less monumental to Marty than it had been to her. She had been young—quite a few years younger than him—and just embarking upon a new career. Marty was sweet and warm [that was probably the fever], and always seemed perfectly content to wait until Angel was ready.
Until, of course, he cheated on her with Marie.
“Didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself,” she muttered to herself.
But that was the pattern, wasn’t it? Find a wonderful guy, be magically happy, keep him physically distant, get cheated on, find out from someone else.
But that would change with Jeff. The pattern would break. Jeff would get the reverse—her body, but not her heart.
She pulled into the gas station and filled the tank. [a pivotal plot point, no doubt] Before resuming her trip, she called Jeff.
“Hey there. Just letting you know I’m about forty minutes away, according to these directions.”
“That sounds great, Angel. I’m psyched. Hey, do you like ranch dressing?” [un-oh, this sounds kinky]
“Who doesn’t?”
“People with no taste, I guess. I’ll see you soon.”
Angel smiled, closed the phone [wooo flip-phones! I’ve still got one!], and started the engine.
NOTES:
1) I don't remember when I wrote this one, but it was obviously after the invention of non-Zack-Morris-sized cell phones. This fact is embarrassing.
COMING UP NEXT:
We get back into the Dustin/Alex/Barry plot as Chris tries to figure out what to do with his burdensome knowledge. There is a toaster involved. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 67: Continental Breakfast
Monday, March 1, 2010
Chapter 63: Revelation
Hi again! Obligatory apologies. But look, folks. Once this dissertation is in the bag, I'll have ass-tons of time for this. Not only this, but also video games and television and napping and other important things that I've neglected a lot lately.
So ... where were we? Ah, yes, Barry was GETTIN IT AWN in the hotel room next to Chris and Justina, who are slowly realizing that Chris is never going to get over Angel, because she is the paragon of all virtues. And blonde. For her part, Angel is juuuuust about to call Jeff Hardy. I'll bet you can't wait to see what happens when she does.
Chapter 63: Revelation
Angel had spent the better part of the weekend mulling over her conversation with Madusa. On the one hand, she had been completely right about one thing: Angel had been thinking of her virginity as a burden—something she just wanted to be rid of so that she could move on [that’s really healthy. I hope there are some impressionable young people out there reading this.] On the other hand, move on to what? To life past Chris? Angel had no doubts that her breakup with Chris was fueling this, but she didn’t think it was out of a need for revenge. This wasn’t about Chris so much as it was about herself—her ability to decide this for herself [as opposed to what? Who else is supposed to decide that for you? Oh, I already regret asking.] But Madusa was right about one thing: [you mean one thing in addition to that first thing you mentioned?] she had to tell Jeff. And sooner rather than later. No sense driving all the way down there just to have him laugh at her, or be so freaked out that he asked her to leave [clearly the reaction you should expect from somebody you plan on sleeping with.]
So she bit the bullet. She called Jeff.
“Hey Jeff. This is Angel.”
“Hey there pretty lady.” [DAYUM he is SMOOVE]
They exchanged pleasantries, made flirtatious jokes [what, we’re not privy to them? Tragic]. Jeff was so disarmingly charming that Angel almost forgot why she had called him in the first place.
“Jeff … in all seriousness, I do have one thing I wanted to tell you before I came down next week.”
“Okay.” His tone got less playful. “Shoot.”
“Well … okay … this is going to sound really crazy, I know, but it’s something you should know, and if you don’t want me to come down because it’s too much, then just say the word.”
“What is it, Angel? Oh man … you aren’t … are you married?”
“What! No!” Angel laughed. “No!”
“Thank God. Been there. That’s a mess.”
“There went one of your fifth amendments, Hardy.” She was still in semi-hysterics.
“Hey, don’t laugh! That was a bad time for me!” But he was starting to chuckle himself. [because nothing is funnier than adultery. Oh, the hilarity!]
“I’m sure,” Angel said, collecting herself. “It’s just … well … it’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I’m going to tell you.”
“You’re … not married?”
“Correct.”
“Okay …”
“And … Jeff, I’m a virgin.”
Jeff was dumbfounded.
“Hello?”
“Uh … no, still here, Angel. Sorry, you just caught me off guard there.”
“So … look. I know it’s weird, but it’s true, and I’m not telling you this because I don’t want to come down anymore. I’m telling you this because I do. I want to come down there and … be with you.”
“Wow.”
“But like I said, I know this is weird, and if it’s too much for you to handle [then I probably shouldn’t be sleeping with you anyway, so maybe I should get to know you first … oh, wait, that’s not what she said], I understand. We can call it off.”
“No … Wow. Uhm … wow. Look, I’m not gonna lie. This is a little weird. But hey, Angel, I like you, Okay? I like you. And I think it would be cool to get to know you with your clothes on.” [that’s really romantic.]
“Jeff …”
“And …” He said, anticipating her protest, “And … if you still want to when you get down here, we’ll just … take it from there, okay?”
“Okay.” Angel smiled into the phone. “Uhm … no pressure.”
Jeff laughed. “What pressure? Not like you have anyone to compare me to.” [SNAP!]
“You’re an ass,” she said dryly, still smiling.
“I can be,” he said.
“But look, I meant what I said at brunch. I really don’t want anything serious, sex or no sex.”
“Understood. And I’m with you. Or not, as the case may be.”
“Cool. I’ll see you in a week or so, Jeff.”
“Can’t wait, Angel.”
“Me either.”
NOTES:
1) I think I need a shower. Not a cold shower. One of those chemical showers you take after you’ve been contaminated by some sort of biohazard. Jefgel is so vile.
2) I know what you’re wondering: WTF was wrong with me? Yeah, I really have no answer. My best guess is that I watched a lot of Dawson’s Creek, and that show propagated some seriously unhealthy ideas of sexuality. My other guess is that even as a college student, I had no idea how adults participated in healthy intimate relationships.
Ok then. Let’s shake that one off, shall we?
Coming up next …
Oh boy! Here comes a character I’ll be you’ve almost forgotten about. Try to figure out which one in … Chapter 64: Violet’s Dilemma
So ... where were we? Ah, yes, Barry was GETTIN IT AWN in the hotel room next to Chris and Justina, who are slowly realizing that Chris is never going to get over Angel, because she is the paragon of all virtues. And blonde. For her part, Angel is juuuuust about to call Jeff Hardy. I'll bet you can't wait to see what happens when she does.
Chapter 63: Revelation
Angel had spent the better part of the weekend mulling over her conversation with Madusa. On the one hand, she had been completely right about one thing: Angel had been thinking of her virginity as a burden—something she just wanted to be rid of so that she could move on [that’s really healthy. I hope there are some impressionable young people out there reading this.] On the other hand, move on to what? To life past Chris? Angel had no doubts that her breakup with Chris was fueling this, but she didn’t think it was out of a need for revenge. This wasn’t about Chris so much as it was about herself—her ability to decide this for herself [as opposed to what? Who else is supposed to decide that for you? Oh, I already regret asking.] But Madusa was right about one thing: [you mean one thing in addition to that first thing you mentioned?] she had to tell Jeff. And sooner rather than later. No sense driving all the way down there just to have him laugh at her, or be so freaked out that he asked her to leave [clearly the reaction you should expect from somebody you plan on sleeping with.]
So she bit the bullet. She called Jeff.
“Hey Jeff. This is Angel.”
“Hey there pretty lady.” [DAYUM he is SMOOVE]
They exchanged pleasantries, made flirtatious jokes [what, we’re not privy to them? Tragic]. Jeff was so disarmingly charming that Angel almost forgot why she had called him in the first place.
“Jeff … in all seriousness, I do have one thing I wanted to tell you before I came down next week.”
“Okay.” His tone got less playful. “Shoot.”
“Well … okay … this is going to sound really crazy, I know, but it’s something you should know, and if you don’t want me to come down because it’s too much, then just say the word.”
“What is it, Angel? Oh man … you aren’t … are you married?”
“What! No!” Angel laughed. “No!”
“Thank God. Been there. That’s a mess.”
“There went one of your fifth amendments, Hardy.” She was still in semi-hysterics.
“Hey, don’t laugh! That was a bad time for me!” But he was starting to chuckle himself. [because nothing is funnier than adultery. Oh, the hilarity!]
“I’m sure,” Angel said, collecting herself. “It’s just … well … it’s pretty much the exact opposite of what I’m going to tell you.”
“You’re … not married?”
“Correct.”
“Okay …”
“And … Jeff, I’m a virgin.”
Jeff was dumbfounded.
“Hello?”
“Uh … no, still here, Angel. Sorry, you just caught me off guard there.”
“So … look. I know it’s weird, but it’s true, and I’m not telling you this because I don’t want to come down anymore. I’m telling you this because I do. I want to come down there and … be with you.”
“Wow.”
“But like I said, I know this is weird, and if it’s too much for you to handle [then I probably shouldn’t be sleeping with you anyway, so maybe I should get to know you first … oh, wait, that’s not what she said], I understand. We can call it off.”
“No … Wow. Uhm … wow. Look, I’m not gonna lie. This is a little weird. But hey, Angel, I like you, Okay? I like you. And I think it would be cool to get to know you with your clothes on.” [that’s really romantic.]
“Jeff …”
“And …” He said, anticipating her protest, “And … if you still want to when you get down here, we’ll just … take it from there, okay?”
“Okay.” Angel smiled into the phone. “Uhm … no pressure.”
Jeff laughed. “What pressure? Not like you have anyone to compare me to.” [SNAP!]
“You’re an ass,” she said dryly, still smiling.
“I can be,” he said.
“But look, I meant what I said at brunch. I really don’t want anything serious, sex or no sex.”
“Understood. And I’m with you. Or not, as the case may be.”
“Cool. I’ll see you in a week or so, Jeff.”
“Can’t wait, Angel.”
“Me either.”
NOTES:
1) I think I need a shower. Not a cold shower. One of those chemical showers you take after you’ve been contaminated by some sort of biohazard. Jefgel is so vile.
2) I know what you’re wondering: WTF was wrong with me? Yeah, I really have no answer. My best guess is that I watched a lot of Dawson’s Creek, and that show propagated some seriously unhealthy ideas of sexuality. My other guess is that even as a college student, I had no idea how adults participated in healthy intimate relationships.
Ok then. Let’s shake that one off, shall we?
Coming up next …
Oh boy! Here comes a character I’ll be you’ve almost forgotten about. Try to figure out which one in … Chapter 64: Violet’s Dilemma
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Chapter 61: Deuce
When we last left our witless crew of characters, Chris and Justina were making the impossibly harrowing trek from Baltimore to Harrisburg. Today, Angel calls and old friend on the phone and gets some remarkably reasonable advice.
Now if you're like me, ever since that episode of The Office where Michael said: "Two queens on Casino Night. I am going to... drop a deuce on everybody," you giggle when you hear the word "Deuce." If this is the case for you, then get ready to chuckle your way through ...
Chapter 61: Deuce
As soon as Angel had hung up the phone, she knew she had made a crazy mistake. But she also knew she couldn’t very well call Jeff back and un-invite herself [uhm, why not?] And mostly, she wanted to go visit him. She wanted to get away from life for a while—to not have to go to work early and leave late so she wouldn’t have to see Chris—to not have to glare at every woman with red hair just in case she was the one. A break was most assuredly in order. But this? This was crazy.
“Because I can’t not have sex with him,” she said aloud to the empty room. [uhm, again, why not? Are you planning on slipping yourself some roofies?]
That was wrong. Obviously she could do whatever she wanted. More accurately, then: “Because I want to have sex with him. And I’m going to. Aaaaaaaaaand … I’m talking to myself. This is why I need female friends.” She rubbed her temples and flopped down on her hotel bed. [how did she get to her hotel? Wasn’t she just in her office?] She opened her address book and flipped through the names.
“Madusa!” she nearly squealed. It had been a while, but she hoped her old friend would be awake. [how does the first half of that sentence relate to the second half of that sentence?]
“Hello?”
“Deuce!”
“Angel!”
“Sorry to call so late.”
“Not a problem. How the hell are you?”
“Good. Crazy. Good.”
They spent the next hour catching up. Madusa, as it turned out, had gotten into racing monster trucks, and had no intention of returning to the business. [I did not make that up]
“I wouldn’t mind a break myself,” said Angel. “Which brings me to my current situation.”
“Angel, are you thinking of leaving because of what happened with Chris?”
“No. Not leaving. Just going on a vacation.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“A vacation with Jeff. At his house in North Carolina.”
“Ang, that sounds better than not bad.”
“I know. But … Deuce, I have a weird question.”
“Shoot.”
“So … I’m pretty sure we’re going to have sex.”
“Yeah …?”
“Well … this will be … my first time.”
“Wait … seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Ok. Well, are you sure you want it to be with Jeff?”
“I think so. Deuce, do you think he will be able to tell?”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re not planning on telling him in advance?”
“I don’t know. Won’t that be awkward?” [not as awkward as, say, having sex with someone that you don’t trust enough to be honest with about the fact that you’ve never had sex before.]
“I can think of several potentially awkward things about this situation.”
“I know.”
“You really should tell him. Otherwise, he’ll go in with guns blazing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Angel …”
“Ok, Ok, I know what you mean. But how do I bring this up?” [didn’t have to ask that last time you were in a hotel room with Jeff. BOOYA!]
“How about the direct approach? Couple that with honesty and you’re good to go.”
“He’s going to think I’m a huge freak.” [tell him he can take a number]
“And if he does, he’s not worth your virginity.”
That thought gave Angel pause. [maybe it’s because it’s the first sensible thing any character has ever said in this entire tome]
“I’m right, Angel.”
“I know.”
“Your virginity isn’t, like, this disease you’ve got to get rid of so you can be a normal person. It’s your body and your decision.”
“I know. I just feel like it’s a weight around my neck, you know? Something I should have gotten over with when I was a teenager.”
“I think you’d be amazed how many people wish they could take a good deal of the decisions they made as a teenager back.”
“I just … it’s like it’s become this huge deal … something bigger than it has to be.”
“According to who?”
“I don’t know, Deuce. To me, I guess. I always thought that waiting until marriage was the safest option, because then I’d be sure that the guy I lost it to would never hurt me, but I know that’s a fantasy. People hurt people. And Chris wanted to marry me, but that wasn’t enough for me. I don’t trust guys, Deuce, and I’m not entirely sure that that’s a bad thing. I don’t need to trust Jeff for this.”
“Angel, that’s ridiculous.”
“That’s not what I mean entirely. I mean, I do trust him to respect me and to be careful about stuff, but I don’t’ trust him with my heart, because he’ll never get it. “
“So you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“That he’s getting your cherry [gross] or that he’s not getting your heart?”
“Deuce!” Angel groaned. She then added: “Both.”
“You have to tell him.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Before you have sex with him.”
“I get it, Madusa, I get it.”
“Just checking.”
“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Probably. Maybe. I think it does for most women. This is, of course, one of the main reasons for you to tell him. Guns blazing, Ang.” [I think we all could have done without that reminder.]
“Duly noted. Thanks for the advice.”
“Of course. Ang—just remember something—you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. And you don’t need to get back at Chris via having sex with Jeff.”
Angel was silent.
“Ang?”
“I hear you, Deuce. Maybe … maybe it’s not about getting back at him …” She sniffled audibly; the tears were starting. “Maybe it’s about forgetting him. When I was with Jeff, I never thought about Chris.”
“Angel?” Madusa said gently, “If you replaced the word ‘Jeff’ with ‘booze’ or ‘pills,’ I’d be worried.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No. And I don’t mean to lecture you … I’m just saying be careful. Do what feels right. Don’t force anything. And most importantly …”
“Yes?”
“Call me when you get back.”
Angel laughed. “I will. And Madusa?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
NOTES
1) I could make a gross comment about Madusa's "don't force anything" advice, but I will restrain myself. Instead, I will just giggle. Hee hee!!!
2) I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually feel kind of sorry for Angel. Trying to erase one guy with another. I've been there, lady. Sometimes you're better off with booze or pills. Not that I've ever really had either. Except that time at my rehearsal dinner where I was so stressed out by my mother-in-law that I actually had a rum and coke in the hopes that it would mellow me out. It worked. It tasted like nasty on fire, but it worked. Wait, where was I? Oh yes. My larger point is that using people to get over other people can make just as much trouble as using various substances. Now that I can attest to. Man, I did a lot of stupid things when I was in college. Without booze or pills.
3) Can you imagine how different this conversation would have been if Angel had called Rick instead?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Yay, another Angel-free chapter! Not only Angel-free ... but ... ellipses for emphasis ... BARRY-FULL! Whee! Tune in next week for ...
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
Now if you're like me, ever since that episode of The Office where Michael said: "Two queens on Casino Night. I am going to... drop a deuce on everybody," you giggle when you hear the word "Deuce." If this is the case for you, then get ready to chuckle your way through ...
Chapter 61: Deuce
As soon as Angel had hung up the phone, she knew she had made a crazy mistake. But she also knew she couldn’t very well call Jeff back and un-invite herself [uhm, why not?] And mostly, she wanted to go visit him. She wanted to get away from life for a while—to not have to go to work early and leave late so she wouldn’t have to see Chris—to not have to glare at every woman with red hair just in case she was the one. A break was most assuredly in order. But this? This was crazy.
“Because I can’t not have sex with him,” she said aloud to the empty room. [uhm, again, why not? Are you planning on slipping yourself some roofies?]
That was wrong. Obviously she could do whatever she wanted. More accurately, then: “Because I want to have sex with him. And I’m going to. Aaaaaaaaaand … I’m talking to myself. This is why I need female friends.” She rubbed her temples and flopped down on her hotel bed. [how did she get to her hotel? Wasn’t she just in her office?] She opened her address book and flipped through the names.
“Madusa!” she nearly squealed. It had been a while, but she hoped her old friend would be awake. [how does the first half of that sentence relate to the second half of that sentence?]
“Hello?”
“Deuce!”
“Angel!”
“Sorry to call so late.”
“Not a problem. How the hell are you?”
“Good. Crazy. Good.”
They spent the next hour catching up. Madusa, as it turned out, had gotten into racing monster trucks, and had no intention of returning to the business. [I did not make that up]
“I wouldn’t mind a break myself,” said Angel. “Which brings me to my current situation.”
“Angel, are you thinking of leaving because of what happened with Chris?”
“No. Not leaving. Just going on a vacation.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”
“A vacation with Jeff. At his house in North Carolina.”
“Ang, that sounds better than not bad.”
“I know. But … Deuce, I have a weird question.”
“Shoot.”
“So … I’m pretty sure we’re going to have sex.”
“Yeah …?”
“Well … this will be … my first time.”
“Wait … seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Ok. Well, are you sure you want it to be with Jeff?”
“I think so. Deuce, do you think he will be able to tell?”
“He doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re not planning on telling him in advance?”
“I don’t know. Won’t that be awkward?” [not as awkward as, say, having sex with someone that you don’t trust enough to be honest with about the fact that you’ve never had sex before.]
“I can think of several potentially awkward things about this situation.”
“I know.”
“You really should tell him. Otherwise, he’ll go in with guns blazing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Angel …”
“Ok, Ok, I know what you mean. But how do I bring this up?” [didn’t have to ask that last time you were in a hotel room with Jeff. BOOYA!]
“How about the direct approach? Couple that with honesty and you’re good to go.”
“He’s going to think I’m a huge freak.” [tell him he can take a number]
“And if he does, he’s not worth your virginity.”
That thought gave Angel pause. [maybe it’s because it’s the first sensible thing any character has ever said in this entire tome]
“I’m right, Angel.”
“I know.”
“Your virginity isn’t, like, this disease you’ve got to get rid of so you can be a normal person. It’s your body and your decision.”
“I know. I just feel like it’s a weight around my neck, you know? Something I should have gotten over with when I was a teenager.”
“I think you’d be amazed how many people wish they could take a good deal of the decisions they made as a teenager back.”
“I just … it’s like it’s become this huge deal … something bigger than it has to be.”
“According to who?”
“I don’t know, Deuce. To me, I guess. I always thought that waiting until marriage was the safest option, because then I’d be sure that the guy I lost it to would never hurt me, but I know that’s a fantasy. People hurt people. And Chris wanted to marry me, but that wasn’t enough for me. I don’t trust guys, Deuce, and I’m not entirely sure that that’s a bad thing. I don’t need to trust Jeff for this.”
“Angel, that’s ridiculous.”
“That’s not what I mean entirely. I mean, I do trust him to respect me and to be careful about stuff, but I don’t’ trust him with my heart, because he’ll never get it. “
“So you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“That he’s getting your cherry [gross] or that he’s not getting your heart?”
“Deuce!” Angel groaned. She then added: “Both.”
“You have to tell him.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Before you have sex with him.”
“I get it, Madusa, I get it.”
“Just checking.”
“It’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“Probably. Maybe. I think it does for most women. This is, of course, one of the main reasons for you to tell him. Guns blazing, Ang.” [I think we all could have done without that reminder.]
“Duly noted. Thanks for the advice.”
“Of course. Ang—just remember something—you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. And you don’t need to get back at Chris via having sex with Jeff.”
Angel was silent.
“Ang?”
“I hear you, Deuce. Maybe … maybe it’s not about getting back at him …” She sniffled audibly; the tears were starting. “Maybe it’s about forgetting him. When I was with Jeff, I never thought about Chris.”
“Angel?” Madusa said gently, “If you replaced the word ‘Jeff’ with ‘booze’ or ‘pills,’ I’d be worried.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No. And I don’t mean to lecture you … I’m just saying be careful. Do what feels right. Don’t force anything. And most importantly …”
“Yes?”
“Call me when you get back.”
Angel laughed. “I will. And Madusa?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
NOTES
1) I could make a gross comment about Madusa's "don't force anything" advice, but I will restrain myself. Instead, I will just giggle. Hee hee!!!
2) I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually feel kind of sorry for Angel. Trying to erase one guy with another. I've been there, lady. Sometimes you're better off with booze or pills. Not that I've ever really had either. Except that time at my rehearsal dinner where I was so stressed out by my mother-in-law that I actually had a rum and coke in the hopes that it would mellow me out. It worked. It tasted like nasty on fire, but it worked. Wait, where was I? Oh yes. My larger point is that using people to get over other people can make just as much trouble as using various substances. Now that I can attest to. Man, I did a lot of stupid things when I was in college. Without booze or pills.
3) Can you imagine how different this conversation would have been if Angel had called Rick instead?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Yay, another Angel-free chapter! Not only Angel-free ... but ... ellipses for emphasis ... BARRY-FULL! Whee! Tune in next week for ...
Chapter 62: Harrisburg
Monday, January 4, 2010
Chapter 59: Invitations
Sorry for that long hiatus. I was up in the frozen northeast visiting family and having job interviews and drinking a lot of cola products. Mmm, boy! Now I'm back in the frozen Southern mid-atlantic sitting on my couch and obsessing about how my job interviews went and drinking a lot of tea. And, of course, updating Unabashedly Bad.
So ... where were we? Ah, yes. Dustin worried about Angel's decision to leave a bar with that nefarious ladykiller, Jeff Hardy. Angel and Jeff partook in some frisky business (not the kind that can get you pregnant, just the kind that can spread disease, but who worries about that in this day and age?). Angel repeatedly congratulated herself for not thinking about what she was doing. Jeff invited Angel to brunch. I assume she ordered eggs sunny-side up, both to match her sunny personality and to bring out the blonde in her hair. Today? Jeffgel bore us some more and then we go back to Angel's office. Get comfy folks, this is a long one:
Chapter 59: Invitations
Jeff was funny and easy to talk to. Nothing was awkward, nothing was difficult [except keeping your pants on]. The reason for that, Angel assumed, was that they had no expectations of each other. She was probably just Jeff’s latest conquest and he … well … he was her rebound. No relationship, no worries. So Angel was somewhat taken aback when Jeff asked her to visit him on his vacation.
“You want me to what?”
“Visit me. In North Carolina. I’ve got some time off coming to me and I’m going home for a bit. I want you to come.”
“Jeff …”
“Don’t answer yet. Just think about it. No pressure, Angel. I just like you and want to see you again.”
“Jeff, look, I’m just coming off a really bad relationship and I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.”
“Angel, if you’re saying that because you don’t want to see me again, that’s cool, but if you’re saying that because you’re relationship-phobic, uhm, seriously, it’s cool, because I am too. I don’t want to get involved right now either. I just think it would be fun. And I know it’s kind of forward of me to ask, but I figured what the hell, you know?”
She smiled at him and shook her head. “You are one bold fellow.”
Jeff laughed. “So just think about it, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Allright.”
“Allright.” Jeff smiled at her as if she knew she’d be accepting his offer. She wasn’t as sure as he seemed to be that this was a good idea, but she was also not entirely sure she’d be able to turn him down, either. [those slash-burns are pretty mesmerizing]
----
As Angel set up the infirmary that night, she tried to focus on the task at hand instead of letting her mind drift to Jeff’s invitation. She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed Dustin standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” he said, “I startle you?”
“Oh, hey Dustin. Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”
“You got a minute, Angel?”
“Uhm, I don’t know.”
“The card doesn’t start for two hours.” [then what are you doing there?]
“Well there’s a lot more setting up to do.”
“Angel? Are you mad at me?”
She put down the box of gauze she had been aimlessly relocating and sighed. [Good ol’ gauze. Can’t have an infirmary without it.] “No, Dustin, I’m not mad at you. I’m just avoiding the conversation I know you’re trying to start with me.”
“How much longer do you want to avoid it? I can come back,” he said with mock seriousness. She laughed reluctantly.
“Allright.” She sat on a cot and he took a folding chair. “So how was your honeymoon?”
“Great. Beautiful. Three weeks ago.”
“Sounds nice. Except for that last part.”
“What happened, Angel?” [on the honeymoon? Weren’t you there? Oh. Wait. He’s talking about Angel’s life. Of course. How silly of me.]
She set her gaze to a remote corner of the room and exhaled. “Chris and I broke up.”
“Why? Was it because of …”
“It was because he ran into his ex-girlfriend and slept with her.” [uhm, I think there was something that happened before that event, but hey, let’s go with it]
“Oh. Wow[lions]. Man, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well. Those are the breaks, huh?”
“Angel …”
“I’m fine, Dustin. Really.”
“Angel, you can’t be fine.”
“Allright, well, I’m not fine per se, but I’m dealing.”
“With Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. Ok? Yes. I’ve got my eyes open on this, Dustin. Jeff can’t hurt me. We’re just hanging out and having fun and it’s nothing even remotely serious. And look, I’m sorry I snapped at you before, because I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m good, OK?”
“Ok Angel. I just worry about you. And I want you to be OK.”
“I know, Dustin.” She gave him a tight hug. “So look … isn’t it about time I meet Alex while she’s not in a big poufy dress? We should grab dinner one of these nights, the three of us.” [so I’m guessing that Angel just assumes Dustin has not manned up about his lip-tryst with Angel, otherwise why the hell would she suggest such a meeting?]
“That would be good. But her sister is having a baby and it’s been a rough pregnancy. The due date is soon and Alex has been spending a lot of time over there.”
“Oh … well, I sure hope everything is OK.”
“Yeah. I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe you two can meet at the Halloween party.”
“That’s like, almost two months from now.”
“I know, but I’m so psyched already.”
Angel giggled. “Always good to have something to look forward to.”
“Yeah, well with Tahiti behind me, I’ve got to be excited about something ahead of me.” [how about years of wedded bliss? Or further delightful folding-chair conversation with the blondest, beautifullest woman ever?]
“Tell me about Tahiti.”
“It was so insanely beautiful … just so … not here. You know?”
“Not where? Baltimore?”
“Yes. No. Yes. Not anywhere familiar. We travel all over, you know? But we never go anywhere. It was nice to just get away.”
“I’m officially jealous.”
“You should be,” he said with a grin.
“Allright, Dustin. I seriously do have to finish setting up here.” [gauze doesn’t unbox itself]
“Yeah, I’ve got to change anyway. Good catching up with you, Ang.”
“You too, Dustin. And thanks for looking out for me.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he said, leaving her office.
Tahiti, thought Angel. Wouldn’t it be amazing to get away from everyone she knew, even if it was just for a few days? Even if it wasn’t Tahiti, but just North Carolina?
She dialed Jeff’s number.
NOTES:
1) Angel is correct. North Carolina is most assuredly not Tahiti. Case in point: today’s temperature in Tahiti: 83. North Carolina? 25. Ugg.
2) How many of you thought for a second that Angel was not going to call Jeff? No hands? Really? Not one?
ALLLLLLRIGHTY then. Coming up next …
Ladies and gents, there’s a 100% Angel-free chapter up next! Woo-hoo! Tune in next time for a semi-interesting conversation between Chris and Justina! There will be mildly witty dialogue and evidence of my disinterest in US geography. See you then for …
Chapter 60: Passenger
So ... where were we? Ah, yes. Dustin worried about Angel's decision to leave a bar with that nefarious ladykiller, Jeff Hardy. Angel and Jeff partook in some frisky business (not the kind that can get you pregnant, just the kind that can spread disease, but who worries about that in this day and age?). Angel repeatedly congratulated herself for not thinking about what she was doing. Jeff invited Angel to brunch. I assume she ordered eggs sunny-side up, both to match her sunny personality and to bring out the blonde in her hair. Today? Jeffgel bore us some more and then we go back to Angel's office. Get comfy folks, this is a long one:
Chapter 59: Invitations
Jeff was funny and easy to talk to. Nothing was awkward, nothing was difficult [except keeping your pants on]. The reason for that, Angel assumed, was that they had no expectations of each other. She was probably just Jeff’s latest conquest and he … well … he was her rebound. No relationship, no worries. So Angel was somewhat taken aback when Jeff asked her to visit him on his vacation.
“You want me to what?”
“Visit me. In North Carolina. I’ve got some time off coming to me and I’m going home for a bit. I want you to come.”
“Jeff …”
“Don’t answer yet. Just think about it. No pressure, Angel. I just like you and want to see you again.”
“Jeff, look, I’m just coming off a really bad relationship and I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.”
“Angel, if you’re saying that because you don’t want to see me again, that’s cool, but if you’re saying that because you’re relationship-phobic, uhm, seriously, it’s cool, because I am too. I don’t want to get involved right now either. I just think it would be fun. And I know it’s kind of forward of me to ask, but I figured what the hell, you know?”
She smiled at him and shook her head. “You are one bold fellow.”
Jeff laughed. “So just think about it, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Allright.”
“Allright.” Jeff smiled at her as if she knew she’d be accepting his offer. She wasn’t as sure as he seemed to be that this was a good idea, but she was also not entirely sure she’d be able to turn him down, either. [those slash-burns are pretty mesmerizing]
----
As Angel set up the infirmary that night, she tried to focus on the task at hand instead of letting her mind drift to Jeff’s invitation. She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed Dustin standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” he said, “I startle you?”
“Oh, hey Dustin. Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”
“You got a minute, Angel?”
“Uhm, I don’t know.”
“The card doesn’t start for two hours.” [then what are you doing there?]
“Well there’s a lot more setting up to do.”
“Angel? Are you mad at me?”
She put down the box of gauze she had been aimlessly relocating and sighed. [Good ol’ gauze. Can’t have an infirmary without it.] “No, Dustin, I’m not mad at you. I’m just avoiding the conversation I know you’re trying to start with me.”
“How much longer do you want to avoid it? I can come back,” he said with mock seriousness. She laughed reluctantly.
“Allright.” She sat on a cot and he took a folding chair. “So how was your honeymoon?”
“Great. Beautiful. Three weeks ago.”
“Sounds nice. Except for that last part.”
“What happened, Angel?” [on the honeymoon? Weren’t you there? Oh. Wait. He’s talking about Angel’s life. Of course. How silly of me.]
She set her gaze to a remote corner of the room and exhaled. “Chris and I broke up.”
“Why? Was it because of …”
“It was because he ran into his ex-girlfriend and slept with her.” [uhm, I think there was something that happened before that event, but hey, let’s go with it]
“Oh. Wow[lions]. Man, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well. Those are the breaks, huh?”
“Angel …”
“I’m fine, Dustin. Really.”
“Angel, you can’t be fine.”
“Allright, well, I’m not fine per se, but I’m dealing.”
“With Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. Ok? Yes. I’ve got my eyes open on this, Dustin. Jeff can’t hurt me. We’re just hanging out and having fun and it’s nothing even remotely serious. And look, I’m sorry I snapped at you before, because I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m good, OK?”
“Ok Angel. I just worry about you. And I want you to be OK.”
“I know, Dustin.” She gave him a tight hug. “So look … isn’t it about time I meet Alex while she’s not in a big poufy dress? We should grab dinner one of these nights, the three of us.” [so I’m guessing that Angel just assumes Dustin has not manned up about his lip-tryst with Angel, otherwise why the hell would she suggest such a meeting?]
“That would be good. But her sister is having a baby and it’s been a rough pregnancy. The due date is soon and Alex has been spending a lot of time over there.”
“Oh … well, I sure hope everything is OK.”
“Yeah. I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe you two can meet at the Halloween party.”
“That’s like, almost two months from now.”
“I know, but I’m so psyched already.”
Angel giggled. “Always good to have something to look forward to.”
“Yeah, well with Tahiti behind me, I’ve got to be excited about something ahead of me.” [how about years of wedded bliss? Or further delightful folding-chair conversation with the blondest, beautifullest woman ever?]
“Tell me about Tahiti.”
“It was so insanely beautiful … just so … not here. You know?”
“Not where? Baltimore?”
“Yes. No. Yes. Not anywhere familiar. We travel all over, you know? But we never go anywhere. It was nice to just get away.”
“I’m officially jealous.”
“You should be,” he said with a grin.
“Allright, Dustin. I seriously do have to finish setting up here.” [gauze doesn’t unbox itself]
“Yeah, I’ve got to change anyway. Good catching up with you, Ang.”
“You too, Dustin. And thanks for looking out for me.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he said, leaving her office.
Tahiti, thought Angel. Wouldn’t it be amazing to get away from everyone she knew, even if it was just for a few days? Even if it wasn’t Tahiti, but just North Carolina?
She dialed Jeff’s number.
NOTES:
1) Angel is correct. North Carolina is most assuredly not Tahiti. Case in point: today’s temperature in Tahiti: 83. North Carolina? 25. Ugg.
2) How many of you thought for a second that Angel was not going to call Jeff? No hands? Really? Not one?
ALLLLLLRIGHTY then. Coming up next …
Ladies and gents, there’s a 100% Angel-free chapter up next! Woo-hoo! Tune in next time for a semi-interesting conversation between Chris and Justina! There will be mildly witty dialogue and evidence of my disinterest in US geography. See you then for …
Chapter 60: Passenger
Monday, December 7, 2009
Chapter 58: About Last Night
Hooo boy, it's been a while, huh? Between Thanksgiving shenanigans and the aforementioned crazytimes that is my job right now, I have spent waaaay too much time on events that do not include updating this thing. I apologize most heartily.
So let's have a brief recap, shall we? Angel met Jeff at a bar. Dustin was all "stay away" and Angel was all "naw, dude" and Jeff was all "look at my complicated sideburns." So Jeff and Angel went on a date and Angel was all "I am not going to overthink this" and Jeff was all "UR HAWT" and they were both all "let's not do it" and then they went back to her hotel room and made out.
Ok, good, we're all up to speed. Today: uhmmm ... pretty much nothing happens. But at least there was nothing I had to censor.
Chapter 58: About Last Night
Angel awoke to the sound of the shower running. The bathroom door was open. She picked Jeff’s shirt up off the floor, slipped it over her heard, and began brushing her teeth.
“I would have figured you for a shower-singer,” she called in to Jeff.
“Dead on. I just didn’t want to wake you. [then why didn’t you close the door?] Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Hand me a towel?”
Angel placed one into his outstretched hand. She finished brushing her teeth. Jeff stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. Angel tried valiantly not to check him out, but failed. He noticed and grinned.
“Caught me.”
“It helps that these towels are roughly the size of washcloths.”
“Yes it does.”
“Angel … about last night …”
Her stomach flipped. “Yeah?”
“I think we made sex obsolete.”
He must’ve detected relief in her laughter. “You were worried I’d say something else?”
“Maybe.”
“Damn, you look sexy in the morning. “
“Bed-head suits me?” [everything suits you, Angel. EVERYTHING. You could dip yourself in dog poo, roll in cigarette butts, and affix rotting pigeon carcasses to your hair and you’d still look ravishing.]
“Utterly. I’d kiss you, but my toothbrush is in a different hotel.” [for shame. I so would imagine Jeff to carry a travel oral hygiene kit with him wherever he went just for situations like this]
Angel waved the tiny bottle of complimentary mouthwash at him.
“Score!”
“So Jeff, about last night …” Angel began as he rinsed his mouth.
“Mmph?”
“When can we do it again?”
As it happened, the answer to that question was “Immediately.” [oh ick]
---
Later, Angel lay in Jeff’s arms staring at the hotel ceiling, wondering how the heck she had gotten there, but trying not to wonder too hard. Her circular thoughts were broken by a glance at the clock.
“Eleven AM already? Dang.”
“You’ve got somewhere to be?”
“Not entirely. But check-out is noon, and I’ve got to …”
“Check-out?” Jeff asked. “I thought you were here for three more days.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three days?]
“No, you’re here for three more days, silly. WCW is moving on to greener pastures. If that’s a way to describe Harrisburg, PA. I’m driving up there after the show tonight,” she said, pulling on a pair of jeans. [really, Angel? Not even a shower?]
“Seriously?”
“Afraid so.”
“Wow. So this really was a one-night stand?”
“I think it was more like a night-and-a-half.”
Wow. I thought for sure I’d be able to see you one more time.” [uhm, she’s not disappearing into thin air.]
“ ‘See me,’ eh?” she smirked.
“Yeah. Yes. Really.” He grabbed his shirt off the floor, smoothed it out as best he could, and buttoned it up. “Like … an actual date, even.”
“Did you suddenly quit wrestling?”
“What? Oh … you and not dating wrestlers. You really meant that?”
“Absolutely.” Angel was fully dressed now and beginning to pack up her toiletries.
“Angel,” Jeff touched her arm. “I’m not looking for anything serious, believe me, but I’ve enjoyed the hell out of these last 18 hours or so, and I really don’t want it to end. And it’s not just because you’re insanely sexy. Although that helps.”
Angel zipped up her toiletries bag. “Jeff …”
“Brunch?” [consider that a prescient shout-out, Oleg]
She smiled at him and looked at her watch.
“Brunch. But not hotel brunch.”
“Afraid of bumping into too many of your friends?”
“Mostly afraid of the food.”
“You’ve got a deal. Look, I’m going back to my room to change and get my gear. Call me when you’re all checked out and we’ll find a place. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Jeff took her hand and kissed it. “Until then,” he said, making his exit.
“Such a charmer, Hardy.” Angel shook her head and finished packing up. 11:30—half an hour to spare. She sat on the bed and exhaled.
What the heck had she just done? Well … she reasoned … to be perfectly honest, nothing she hadn’t done before … just with someone she barely knew. And that was the exciting part, the wonderful part, the slightly terrifying part. But brunch? Angel had been fully prepared to never see Jeff again. How did I happen that she would in fact see him again in less than an hour?
NOTES:
1) Showering with the door open? Yeah. Slice does that. He pees with the door open too. One time he tried to get away with pooping with the door open. That was not acceptible. I wish Jeff had tried that.
2) I personally do not like brunch. Lunch I find quite enjoyable, but brunch is always a let-down. Mostly because I don't like eggs and can't understand why eating a plate of pancakes could possibly result in anything but a long nap afterwards. I would imagine that Jeff would make brunch much more enticing, however, what with his rapier wit and all.
Coming up next …
Yes, we have to witness brunch. But then we actually get to revisit Angel’s office! And we get to hear about Dustin's honeymoon. Sort of. At any rate, I promise that Barry's coming back soon.
See you next time for ... Chapter 59: Invitations.
So let's have a brief recap, shall we? Angel met Jeff at a bar. Dustin was all "stay away" and Angel was all "naw, dude" and Jeff was all "look at my complicated sideburns." So Jeff and Angel went on a date and Angel was all "I am not going to overthink this" and Jeff was all "UR HAWT" and they were both all "let's not do it" and then they went back to her hotel room and made out.
Ok, good, we're all up to speed. Today: uhmmm ... pretty much nothing happens. But at least there was nothing I had to censor.
Chapter 58: About Last Night
Angel awoke to the sound of the shower running. The bathroom door was open. She picked Jeff’s shirt up off the floor, slipped it over her heard, and began brushing her teeth.
“I would have figured you for a shower-singer,” she called in to Jeff.
“Dead on. I just didn’t want to wake you. [then why didn’t you close the door?] Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“Hand me a towel?”
Angel placed one into his outstretched hand. She finished brushing her teeth. Jeff stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist. Angel tried valiantly not to check him out, but failed. He noticed and grinned.
“Caught me.”
“It helps that these towels are roughly the size of washcloths.”
“Yes it does.”
“Angel … about last night …”
Her stomach flipped. “Yeah?”
“I think we made sex obsolete.”
He must’ve detected relief in her laughter. “You were worried I’d say something else?”
“Maybe.”
“Damn, you look sexy in the morning. “
“Bed-head suits me?” [everything suits you, Angel. EVERYTHING. You could dip yourself in dog poo, roll in cigarette butts, and affix rotting pigeon carcasses to your hair and you’d still look ravishing.]
“Utterly. I’d kiss you, but my toothbrush is in a different hotel.” [for shame. I so would imagine Jeff to carry a travel oral hygiene kit with him wherever he went just for situations like this]
Angel waved the tiny bottle of complimentary mouthwash at him.
“Score!”
“So Jeff, about last night …” Angel began as he rinsed his mouth.
“Mmph?”
“When can we do it again?”
As it happened, the answer to that question was “Immediately.” [oh ick]
---
Later, Angel lay in Jeff’s arms staring at the hotel ceiling, wondering how the heck she had gotten there, but trying not to wonder too hard. Her circular thoughts were broken by a glance at the clock.
“Eleven AM already? Dang.”
“You’ve got somewhere to be?”
“Not entirely. But check-out is noon, and I’ve got to …”
“Check-out?” Jeff asked. “I thought you were here for three more days.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three days?]
“No, you’re here for three more days, silly. WCW is moving on to greener pastures. If that’s a way to describe Harrisburg, PA. I’m driving up there after the show tonight,” she said, pulling on a pair of jeans. [really, Angel? Not even a shower?]
“Seriously?”
“Afraid so.”
“Wow. So this really was a one-night stand?”
“I think it was more like a night-and-a-half.”
Wow. I thought for sure I’d be able to see you one more time.” [uhm, she’s not disappearing into thin air.]
“ ‘See me,’ eh?” she smirked.
“Yeah. Yes. Really.” He grabbed his shirt off the floor, smoothed it out as best he could, and buttoned it up. “Like … an actual date, even.”
“Did you suddenly quit wrestling?”
“What? Oh … you and not dating wrestlers. You really meant that?”
“Absolutely.” Angel was fully dressed now and beginning to pack up her toiletries.
“Angel,” Jeff touched her arm. “I’m not looking for anything serious, believe me, but I’ve enjoyed the hell out of these last 18 hours or so, and I really don’t want it to end. And it’s not just because you’re insanely sexy. Although that helps.”
Angel zipped up her toiletries bag. “Jeff …”
“Brunch?” [consider that a prescient shout-out, Oleg]
She smiled at him and looked at her watch.
“Brunch. But not hotel brunch.”
“Afraid of bumping into too many of your friends?”
“Mostly afraid of the food.”
“You’ve got a deal. Look, I’m going back to my room to change and get my gear. Call me when you’re all checked out and we’ll find a place. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Jeff took her hand and kissed it. “Until then,” he said, making his exit.
“Such a charmer, Hardy.” Angel shook her head and finished packing up. 11:30—half an hour to spare. She sat on the bed and exhaled.
What the heck had she just done? Well … she reasoned … to be perfectly honest, nothing she hadn’t done before … just with someone she barely knew. And that was the exciting part, the wonderful part, the slightly terrifying part. But brunch? Angel had been fully prepared to never see Jeff again. How did I happen that she would in fact see him again in less than an hour?
NOTES:
1) Showering with the door open? Yeah. Slice does that. He pees with the door open too. One time he tried to get away with pooping with the door open. That was not acceptible. I wish Jeff had tried that.
2) I personally do not like brunch. Lunch I find quite enjoyable, but brunch is always a let-down. Mostly because I don't like eggs and can't understand why eating a plate of pancakes could possibly result in anything but a long nap afterwards. I would imagine that Jeff would make brunch much more enticing, however, what with his rapier wit and all.
Coming up next …
Yes, we have to witness brunch. But then we actually get to revisit Angel’s office! And we get to hear about Dustin's honeymoon. Sort of. At any rate, I promise that Barry's coming back soon.
See you next time for ... Chapter 59: Invitations.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
So sitemeter allows me to see which phrases people are googling in order to get to this blog. Amazingly enough, the most frequently googled phrase is actually “barry windham wrestling boots.” Hey, they WERE pretty snazzy. So if you stumbled across here looking for boots, but somehow got caught up in this drama instead, welcome. And if you are seriously missing Barry … have patience. I promise that he’ll be back as soon as we get a bit more of this Jeff garbage out of the way. Today, we get one step closer:
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
“So I guess you’re not one of those women who gets turned off by the overconfident lady-killer type?”
“You’re not overconfident. You’re charming.”
Jeff chuckled.
“Besides,” Angel added. “I’ve been with your opposite—the goofy, shy, good-natured, slightly-awkward guy.”
“Too boring?”
“Too insistent on sleeping with his ex. Whoops, sorry, there went the fifth.”
“I won’t use it against you in court.”
“Thanks. Hey, Jeff, I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, here we are at my hotel,” Angel said as Jeff opened the lobby door for her, “and we’re heading up to my room, but I don’t have any wine or movies or board games or music or photo albums or magazines or any other things we can pretend to be interested in until one of us makes a move on the other.” [photo albums? That’s a turn on. “Hey, here’s me in seventh grade! Look at my braces. Hey! Here’s me and my best friends. You don’t know any of them.”]
Jeff laughed as they stepped out of the elevator. “I like you a whole damn lot, Angel [sigh. Remember when characters would apologize for swearing? I kind of miss those days]. I guess we’ll just have to have a pretend object of interest. There’s got to be a room service menu. Or a pad and pen next to the phone. We could play hangman until one of us makes a move.”
“Are we really going to do that?”
“Probably not.”
“What about tic tac toe?” Angel asked as she inserted the key into the door. [is that a double entendre?]
“Are you that much of a glutton for punishment?”
“Are you sure that first victory wasn’t a fluke?”
“Those are fighting words, lady.”
The door closed behind them. Angel smiled at Jeff. “I’m going to go freshen up. I can’t believe I actually just said that. Only movie people say that.” [and characters in bad wrestling fan fiction, apparently]
“It’s classier than saying that you’re going to the can.”
“Excellent point!” At any rate, I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home—or at least your own hotel room.”
When Angel returned, Jeff was sitting on the bed with a pad of paper and a pen. “I’m X’s,” he said, handing the pad to Angel. She sat next to him and took the paper.
“Only suckers start in the middle.” [was THAT a double entendre?]
“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, handing her the pen. She took it and filled the rest of the squares with O’s [see bracketed comment above].
“Sucker,” she said.
“You play dirty.”
She grinned at him. He moved his face closer to hers, took the pen from her hand and put it in his shirt front pocket.
“I bet you do too.” She took the pen from his pocket and threw it on the floor [that seemed unnecessary]. Then she hooked her fingers in the pocket and drew him closer. Their noses touched. She felt his breath on her lips … [Ahem. Yeah. I know I promised that I’d type everything as it was written, but I actually forgot that I wrote this scene. It’s embarrassing, but not in the same way that lines like “love means hates nothing about” is embarrassing. So I’m just going to pretend that there are no extended descriptions of the way his calloused fingers felt against her soft skin or anything like that. Trust me, you’re really not missing anything. Let’s just say that they make out a lot, and it’s gross. Don’t worry, gentle readers, they don’t actually “do it.” There’s no need for anyone to go and tattle to Rick Steiner.]
NOTES:
1) Wow, I’m glad this one is behind me. At least this chapter is an outlier—the rest of ‘em are all strictly PG-13.
2) Oh Angel, you harlot. Rebounding with Slashburns in your hotel room. Freshening up. Throwing his pen on the floor. What happened to the nice young lady who brought cookies to a party and wore apricot t-shirts with a slight v-neck?
3) Let’s assume that it was a morning wrestling card. Why not?
Coming up next …
Angel and Jeff have a little talk about what happened the night before. I am going to have to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks to actually transcribe it. The good news is that we’ll get a break from Jeff chapters soon. Not soon enough, of course, but soon.
See you next time for …
Chapter 58: Invitations
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
“So I guess you’re not one of those women who gets turned off by the overconfident lady-killer type?”
“You’re not overconfident. You’re charming.”
Jeff chuckled.
“Besides,” Angel added. “I’ve been with your opposite—the goofy, shy, good-natured, slightly-awkward guy.”
“Too boring?”
“Too insistent on sleeping with his ex. Whoops, sorry, there went the fifth.”
“I won’t use it against you in court.”
“Thanks. Hey, Jeff, I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, here we are at my hotel,” Angel said as Jeff opened the lobby door for her, “and we’re heading up to my room, but I don’t have any wine or movies or board games or music or photo albums or magazines or any other things we can pretend to be interested in until one of us makes a move on the other.” [photo albums? That’s a turn on. “Hey, here’s me in seventh grade! Look at my braces. Hey! Here’s me and my best friends. You don’t know any of them.”]
Jeff laughed as they stepped out of the elevator. “I like you a whole damn lot, Angel [sigh. Remember when characters would apologize for swearing? I kind of miss those days]. I guess we’ll just have to have a pretend object of interest. There’s got to be a room service menu. Or a pad and pen next to the phone. We could play hangman until one of us makes a move.”
“Are we really going to do that?”
“Probably not.”
“What about tic tac toe?” Angel asked as she inserted the key into the door. [is that a double entendre?]
“Are you that much of a glutton for punishment?”
“Are you sure that first victory wasn’t a fluke?”
“Those are fighting words, lady.”
The door closed behind them. Angel smiled at Jeff. “I’m going to go freshen up. I can’t believe I actually just said that. Only movie people say that.” [and characters in bad wrestling fan fiction, apparently]
“It’s classier than saying that you’re going to the can.”
“Excellent point!” At any rate, I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home—or at least your own hotel room.”
When Angel returned, Jeff was sitting on the bed with a pad of paper and a pen. “I’m X’s,” he said, handing the pad to Angel. She sat next to him and took the paper.
“Only suckers start in the middle.” [was THAT a double entendre?]
“Mmm-hmm,” he replied, handing her the pen. She took it and filled the rest of the squares with O’s [see bracketed comment above].
“Sucker,” she said.
“You play dirty.”
She grinned at him. He moved his face closer to hers, took the pen from her hand and put it in his shirt front pocket.
“I bet you do too.” She took the pen from his pocket and threw it on the floor [that seemed unnecessary]. Then she hooked her fingers in the pocket and drew him closer. Their noses touched. She felt his breath on her lips … [Ahem. Yeah. I know I promised that I’d type everything as it was written, but I actually forgot that I wrote this scene. It’s embarrassing, but not in the same way that lines like “love means hates nothing about” is embarrassing. So I’m just going to pretend that there are no extended descriptions of the way his calloused fingers felt against her soft skin or anything like that. Trust me, you’re really not missing anything. Let’s just say that they make out a lot, and it’s gross. Don’t worry, gentle readers, they don’t actually “do it.” There’s no need for anyone to go and tattle to Rick Steiner.]
NOTES:
1) Wow, I’m glad this one is behind me. At least this chapter is an outlier—the rest of ‘em are all strictly PG-13.
2) Oh Angel, you harlot. Rebounding with Slashburns in your hotel room. Freshening up. Throwing his pen on the floor. What happened to the nice young lady who brought cookies to a party and wore apricot t-shirts with a slight v-neck?
3) Let’s assume that it was a morning wrestling card. Why not?
Coming up next …
Angel and Jeff have a little talk about what happened the night before. I am going to have to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks to actually transcribe it. The good news is that we’ll get a break from Jeff chapters soon. Not soon enough, of course, but soon.
See you next time for …
Chapter 58: Invitations
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Chapter 57: One Night (Part II)
When last we left Jefgel, they were conversing about movies and favorite bands and being astonished at the fact that Angel worked in wrestling. Plus, Angel was wearing new underwear and I was squirming uncomfortably at the fact that I had written any of this. Today: Jeff nonchalantly admits that he is a musician and Angel has an internal monologue where she marvels about how she has no emotional attachment to Jeff and therefore it's a good idea to start getting frisky with him. Just a warning: that will be a recurring theme. I'm trying to think of a concise tag for that phenomenon. If y'all have any suggestions, please do share.
Chapter 57 – One Night (Part II)
“So look … what do you say we get out of here, take a walk along the pier, and get some ice cream or something?” Jeff said as they finished their meal.
“I’m up for the walk, but not the ice cream. I ate like fifty pounds of crab in there.”
“Who’s counting?”
“My engorged stomach.”
“Engorged … that’s such a romantic word. I’ll have to work that into a song.”
“You write songs?”
“Here and there. Did you like my lame attempt at working that seamlessly into the conversation?”
“Admirable indeed. Do you sing?”
“I try.”
“And play the guitar?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Nah. Yeah,” she giggled. “Let me guess … you write songs about women.”
“Wrong on that one.”
“So it’s not a lure?”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t lure incidentally, but I really just love to play.” [I've already rolled my eyes like 300 times since this chapter started]
“That’s cool. I used to play the violin in junior high. I gave it up when I started forming a chin callus.” [way to suffer for your art, Angel]
Jeff smiled at her and extended his right hand. “These are like my badge of honor,” he said, displaying his callused fingers.
“You know what would have looked just as cool? A humongous one of those on my face.”
Jeff laughed and turned towards her as they leaned on the railing overlooking the water. “Anything marring that face would be a crime,” he said, tracing her jawline with his finger. [uggggg] Angel shivered at his touch. “So, Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
“What’s been stopping you?”
He tilted her face up towards his and brought his lips to hers. Angel’s head swam. No one had ever kissed her like this. The second his lips touched hers, everything else ceased to matter—but it wasn’t that she was caught up in love for him, as she had been with Chris, but with such a fierce passion that she could think of nothing else. When the kiss ended, she felt dizzy. [I don't feel so good myself having read that]
“Jeff …”
“Yeah?”
But she didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at her rendered her speechless. His dark hazel eyes were locked on hers. He looked like he wanted to devour her. She had the distinct feeling that she was looking at him the same way.
“I … uhm …”
“We have the most intense chemistry I’ve ever felt. No joke.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. Look. You probably know that I’m no saint. I’ve been around … but this is crazy. The second I touch you, I …”
“Lose track of life?”
“Pretty much. That’s not a line, Angel. I’m speaking the truth here.”
“I know.”
“And you know what’s almost stupid?”
“What?”
“I like you so much that I wouldn’t even consider having a one night stand.”
“You only sleep with people you don’t like?”
“The fifth.”
Angel laughed. “So Jeff ... if I invite you back to my hotel room, I don’t have to worry about you thinking I’m a slut because I know it won’t be with the expectation of sleeping with you on the first non-date.”
“You’re seriously going to tempt me like that?”
“All I’m going to do is invite you back. You have my solemn vow that we will not have sex.”
“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.”
As they walked back, neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence at all. Angel tried valiantly to not think about what she was doing, but she couldn’t help it. What if Jeff had not brought sex up? What if he hadn’t already promised not to sleep with her? How could she possibly tell him that she was a virgin without freaking him out? Was she seriously going back to her hotel room with a guy she barely knew, especially a guy she wanted this badly? Was he actually going to find out she was wearing a thong? That last thought sent shivers down her spine.
“So look, Angel, [awkward PSA alert!] even though we’ve not to have sex and we’ve both pleaded the fifth about all previous relationships, I just want you to know that even though I’ve been around, I’ve always done it safely.”
“Thanks, Jeff. I appreciate you saying that … and I’ve never had unsafe sex either.” Not at a lie at all, Angel thought. And there was really no reason to clarify beyond that. There was little chance she and Jeff would see each other again after this weekend. Why should she ruin a perfectly good night with awkward conversation, especially when they’d already agreed not to have sex?
--------------------------------
NOTES:
1) Gee, Angel, I don't know, why WOULD you ruin a good night with conversation? Why would you try to get to know someone a little bit better before inviting him back to your hotel room?
2) As smarmy as Jeff is, I don't quite want to punch him in the solar plexus just yet. Let's look at this from his perspective: he's a total hottie and he knows it. There's a hot blonde nurse looking to rebound. Everything he's doing and saying is totally in character. The only icky thing is that the hot nurse in question is Angel. He doesn't know that yet, readers. I actually feel kind of sorry for him at this point.
3) Don't you wish that Dustin had been eating at that restaurant too?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Avert your eyes, readers. It gets sort of steamy. I might actually have to tone it down a little, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to make eye contact with those of you whom I know in person. We'll see.
Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
Chapter 57 – One Night (Part II)
“So look … what do you say we get out of here, take a walk along the pier, and get some ice cream or something?” Jeff said as they finished their meal.
“I’m up for the walk, but not the ice cream. I ate like fifty pounds of crab in there.”
“Who’s counting?”
“My engorged stomach.”
“Engorged … that’s such a romantic word. I’ll have to work that into a song.”
“You write songs?”
“Here and there. Did you like my lame attempt at working that seamlessly into the conversation?”
“Admirable indeed. Do you sing?”
“I try.”
“And play the guitar?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Nah. Yeah,” she giggled. “Let me guess … you write songs about women.”
“Wrong on that one.”
“So it’s not a lure?”
“Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t lure incidentally, but I really just love to play.” [I've already rolled my eyes like 300 times since this chapter started]
“That’s cool. I used to play the violin in junior high. I gave it up when I started forming a chin callus.” [way to suffer for your art, Angel]
Jeff smiled at her and extended his right hand. “These are like my badge of honor,” he said, displaying his callused fingers.
“You know what would have looked just as cool? A humongous one of those on my face.”
Jeff laughed and turned towards her as they leaned on the railing overlooking the water. “Anything marring that face would be a crime,” he said, tracing her jawline with his finger. [uggggg] Angel shivered at his touch. “So, Angel?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
“What’s been stopping you?”
He tilted her face up towards his and brought his lips to hers. Angel’s head swam. No one had ever kissed her like this. The second his lips touched hers, everything else ceased to matter—but it wasn’t that she was caught up in love for him, as she had been with Chris, but with such a fierce passion that she could think of nothing else. When the kiss ended, she felt dizzy. [I don't feel so good myself having read that]
“Jeff …”
“Yeah?”
But she didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at her rendered her speechless. His dark hazel eyes were locked on hers. He looked like he wanted to devour her. She had the distinct feeling that she was looking at him the same way.
“I … uhm …”
“We have the most intense chemistry I’ve ever felt. No joke.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. Look. You probably know that I’m no saint. I’ve been around … but this is crazy. The second I touch you, I …”
“Lose track of life?”
“Pretty much. That’s not a line, Angel. I’m speaking the truth here.”
“I know.”
“And you know what’s almost stupid?”
“What?”
“I like you so much that I wouldn’t even consider having a one night stand.”
“You only sleep with people you don’t like?”
“The fifth.”
Angel laughed. “So Jeff ... if I invite you back to my hotel room, I don’t have to worry about you thinking I’m a slut because I know it won’t be with the expectation of sleeping with you on the first non-date.”
“You’re seriously going to tempt me like that?”
“All I’m going to do is invite you back. You have my solemn vow that we will not have sex.”
“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve had in a long time.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely.”
As they walked back, neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence at all. Angel tried valiantly to not think about what she was doing, but she couldn’t help it. What if Jeff had not brought sex up? What if he hadn’t already promised not to sleep with her? How could she possibly tell him that she was a virgin without freaking him out? Was she seriously going back to her hotel room with a guy she barely knew, especially a guy she wanted this badly? Was he actually going to find out she was wearing a thong? That last thought sent shivers down her spine.
“So look, Angel, [awkward PSA alert!] even though we’ve not to have sex and we’ve both pleaded the fifth about all previous relationships, I just want you to know that even though I’ve been around, I’ve always done it safely.”
“Thanks, Jeff. I appreciate you saying that … and I’ve never had unsafe sex either.” Not at a lie at all, Angel thought. And there was really no reason to clarify beyond that. There was little chance she and Jeff would see each other again after this weekend. Why should she ruin a perfectly good night with awkward conversation, especially when they’d already agreed not to have sex?
--------------------------------
NOTES:
1) Gee, Angel, I don't know, why WOULD you ruin a good night with conversation? Why would you try to get to know someone a little bit better before inviting him back to your hotel room?
2) As smarmy as Jeff is, I don't quite want to punch him in the solar plexus just yet. Let's look at this from his perspective: he's a total hottie and he knows it. There's a hot blonde nurse looking to rebound. Everything he's doing and saying is totally in character. The only icky thing is that the hot nurse in question is Angel. He doesn't know that yet, readers. I actually feel kind of sorry for him at this point.
3) Don't you wish that Dustin had been eating at that restaurant too?
COMING UP NEXT ...
Avert your eyes, readers. It gets sort of steamy. I might actually have to tone it down a little, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to make eye contact with those of you whom I know in person. We'll see.
Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 57: One Night (Part III)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Chapter 57: One Night (Part I)
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]
------------------------------------------------------
“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.
------------------------------------------------------
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)
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]
------------------------------------------------------
“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.
------------------------------------------------------
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)
Friday, October 30, 2009
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
As I suggested last week, this chapter is pretty much just Angel talking on the phone. If it helps, you can imagine that other, more interesting things are happening in the background. Perhaps dancing manatees are involved. Or ninjas. Who doesn’t love a ninja?
In other news … my love … for ellipses … is … overwhelmingly obvious … in … this chapter.
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part II)
When Angel looked at her answering machine, her heart fluttered … there were four messages. Maybe he had called?
“Angel? This is Dustin. Look … just call me as soon as you get this.”
“Angel … this is Scott. Give me a ring when you can.”
“Angel … Dustin again. Please call me soon. I’m worried about you.”
And then …
“Hey there Angel. I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I’m betting that you do. You lost at tic tac toe to a handsome stranger … that handsome stranger was me. [that is so smooth I can barely stand it. Fellas, take notes]. Anyway …. I’d love to hang out again. I’ll call you later.”
Angel barely prevented herself from squealing. He had called. And he said he’d call later! When the phone rang again, she was so excited that she forgot to see what it was.
“Hello?”
“Angel? I’m so glad I finally caught you!”
“Oh … hey Dustin. What’s up?” [cue the manatees!]
“Angel … about the other night …”
“Dustin. I know you’re just looking out for me … but I’m a grown woman.”
“I know, I know … but he’s bad news.” [bad news? Who talks like that?]
“So what?”
“He’s not your type, darlin’.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have a type, Dustin. Maybe I should just have a good time hanging out with Jeff.”
“He’s just … he’s a bad sort. Our partying all the time, going through women like water … he’s no gentleman.” [no, seriously: who talks like that?]
“Dustin … do you know how many gentlemen turn out to be scumbags? I’ve dated enough nice guys to know that they break your heart too. So if I know Jeff is a jerk to begin with, which I don’t even actually know, maybe that’s to my ultimate advantage.”
“Angel …”
“I have to go, Dustin. Have a nice night.” [won’t she see him later? Doesn’t she, you know, work with him?]
Angel hung up the phone before he could reply or protest. She knew her friend meant well, but the absolute last thing she watned to do right now was get love advice from Dustin Rhodes.
The phone rang again … it was Jeff. Angel took a deep breath and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey pretty lady.” [cue the ninjas!]
“Hey smooth talker.”
“So I think we should hang out.”
“Me too. “
“Excellent. I’m in town for three more nights.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three nights?!?]
“We’d better not waste any time then.”
“I agree. I’ll pick you up at seven.” [wait … when is he going to wrestle?]
“See you then, Jeff.”
“Later, Angel.”
Angel hung up the phone and sunk into the couch [in her hotel room? Does she have a suite? Or are we suddenly back in her apartment again?] Seven! What should she wear? Three more nights? And then what? But she couldn’t allow herself to worry about that now. Jeff Hardy wasn’t about the future, he was about now. And now she had to go get something to wear. [why not just wear your outfit from Sting’s party? That was a hit!]
NOTES
1) When was the last time Angel did anything related to her job? Or, for that matter, anyone wrestled?
2) I wonder what Scott wanted. Maybe to let Angel know that he’s in town, seeing as how Jeff is there. Scott is supposedly still in the WWF, which is of course where Jeff is. Yeah, my wrestling chronology is completely screwed up. I obviously wanted to introduce Jeff, but in doing so, needed to conveniently ignore the fact that 6 years of wrestling storylines and brand switches have elapsed. Hooray for artistic license!
3) Sort of hanging up on Dustin is the least lame thing Angel has ever done.
COMING UP NEXT …
Angel buys underwear. Oh man. I’m sooooo sorry about this. And then she goes on a date with Jeff. If you’ve got the intestinal fortitude [tm Gorilla Monsoon], tune in next week for …
Chapter 57: One Night
In other news … my love … for ellipses … is … overwhelmingly obvious … in … this chapter.
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part II)
When Angel looked at her answering machine, her heart fluttered … there were four messages. Maybe he had called?
“Angel? This is Dustin. Look … just call me as soon as you get this.”
“Angel … this is Scott. Give me a ring when you can.”
“Angel … Dustin again. Please call me soon. I’m worried about you.”
And then …
“Hey there Angel. I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I’m betting that you do. You lost at tic tac toe to a handsome stranger … that handsome stranger was me. [that is so smooth I can barely stand it. Fellas, take notes]. Anyway …. I’d love to hang out again. I’ll call you later.”
Angel barely prevented herself from squealing. He had called. And he said he’d call later! When the phone rang again, she was so excited that she forgot to see what it was.
“Hello?”
“Angel? I’m so glad I finally caught you!”
“Oh … hey Dustin. What’s up?” [cue the manatees!]
“Angel … about the other night …”
“Dustin. I know you’re just looking out for me … but I’m a grown woman.”
“I know, I know … but he’s bad news.” [bad news? Who talks like that?]
“So what?”
“He’s not your type, darlin’.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have a type, Dustin. Maybe I should just have a good time hanging out with Jeff.”
“He’s just … he’s a bad sort. Our partying all the time, going through women like water … he’s no gentleman.” [no, seriously: who talks like that?]
“Dustin … do you know how many gentlemen turn out to be scumbags? I’ve dated enough nice guys to know that they break your heart too. So if I know Jeff is a jerk to begin with, which I don’t even actually know, maybe that’s to my ultimate advantage.”
“Angel …”
“I have to go, Dustin. Have a nice night.” [won’t she see him later? Doesn’t she, you know, work with him?]
Angel hung up the phone before he could reply or protest. She knew her friend meant well, but the absolute last thing she watned to do right now was get love advice from Dustin Rhodes.
The phone rang again … it was Jeff. Angel took a deep breath and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Hey pretty lady.” [cue the ninjas!]
“Hey smooth talker.”
“So I think we should hang out.”
“Me too. “
“Excellent. I’m in town for three more nights.” [what kind of wrestling card lasts three nights?!?]
“We’d better not waste any time then.”
“I agree. I’ll pick you up at seven.” [wait … when is he going to wrestle?]
“See you then, Jeff.”
“Later, Angel.”
Angel hung up the phone and sunk into the couch [in her hotel room? Does she have a suite? Or are we suddenly back in her apartment again?] Seven! What should she wear? Three more nights? And then what? But she couldn’t allow herself to worry about that now. Jeff Hardy wasn’t about the future, he was about now. And now she had to go get something to wear. [why not just wear your outfit from Sting’s party? That was a hit!]
NOTES
1) When was the last time Angel did anything related to her job? Or, for that matter, anyone wrestled?
2) I wonder what Scott wanted. Maybe to let Angel know that he’s in town, seeing as how Jeff is there. Scott is supposedly still in the WWF, which is of course where Jeff is. Yeah, my wrestling chronology is completely screwed up. I obviously wanted to introduce Jeff, but in doing so, needed to conveniently ignore the fact that 6 years of wrestling storylines and brand switches have elapsed. Hooray for artistic license!
3) Sort of hanging up on Dustin is the least lame thing Angel has ever done.
COMING UP NEXT …
Angel buys underwear. Oh man. I’m sooooo sorry about this. And then she goes on a date with Jeff. If you’ve got the intestinal fortitude [tm Gorilla Monsoon], tune in next week for …
Chapter 57: One Night
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Hail, fearless readers. Last week, Jeff nauseated the entire galaxy by singing the praises of Angel's lips. This week, our stomach linings are granted a reprieve: today's chapter is approximately 87% Angel-Free. Whee!
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Angel felt as if her insides were made of gelatin. What had just happened? She grinned. Her phone rang.
“No way. He can’t be calling that soon,” she reasoned. But her heart leapt at the idea. But the caller ID was Dustin. [caller ID! Ha! Remember that?] She turned the ringer off and went to bed.
------
“Chris? You in there somewhere?” Justina asked, waving her arms theatrically in front of his face.
“Yeah … Yeah. Sorry, Foss. I’m just …”
“Thinking about the blonde.”
“How did you know she was blonde?”
“Benoit, you have a picture of her in your wallet.” [does anyone actually carry pictures of their girlfriends in their wallets?]
“Where did you get my wallet?”
“It’s open here on the end table. You should really keep track of it better.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look … I know things are really confusing for you right now. I’m sorry I complicated everything.”
“Two to tango, Foss.”
“I know. Look, Chris … I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
Chris put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. “Foss, you didn’t ruin anything. I’ve just got to sort some things out.”
She took his hands into hers and kissed them. “I have to go to work. I’ll see you later.”
Chris kissed her forehead and began to pack up his gear [woo! Duffel bagging!]. He exchanged nods and smiles with the other wrestlers who filtered through the dressing room and headed into the corridor. [sooo … this whole exchange took place in a dressing room? What was Justina doing there? Why would Chris have his wallet out on a table? How many dressing/locker rooms feature end tables?]
“Hey,” someone called behind him. Chris spun around to see Dustin Rhodes.
“What?”
“You going to tell me what’s going on with Angel?” [woah, that’s a bit forward, no?]
Chris put his bags down.
“Why the hell should I? You’re the one who screwed us up in the first place. So just back off, Rodeo Clown. I have nothing to explain to you. I owe you nothing.”
“Fair enough. Look, I know you have no reason to trust me or listen to me. And I also know that you and Angel’s relationship is none of my business … But I’m worried about her.”
“Dustin, I know she’s upset, but …”
“No—it’s not that. Chris, she left a bar last night with Jeff Hardy.”
“Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. And when I tried to stop her, she went berserk on me. Chris, that fella is just no good. Parties all the time … with a different woman every night. Now, I’m not telling you what to do or how to run your love life, but I am telling you that you were so good for Angel, and I feel like a piece of garbage for getting in between y’all, and I’d do anything to get her away from that creep. I’ve said my piece.” [how patronizingly thoughtful of you]
Chris was silent. He clenched his jaw and offered his hand to Dustin.
“I appreciate that, Dustin. She doesn’t want to talk to me right now, and I don’t blame her. I screwed up bad. Bad. It’s going to take time. And my life is really confusing right now. So please, if you could, look after her as best you can?”
“Sure thing, Chris,” said Dustin, shaking Chris’s hand.
Chris ran his fingers through his hair, [ah, the classic physical manifestation of angst] picked up his bags, and left the arena.
NOTES:
1) Don’t you love it when male characters ask other male characters to “look after” female characters as if they were small children? Way to be progressive, college me.
2) I love how everyone knows Jeff Hardy well enough to have heard of him both as a wrestler and as a womanizer, but Angel couldn’t recognize him at the bar.
3) I kind of liked Chris in this chapter. Until he started showing concern for Angel.
COMING UP NEXT ....
In this chapter's exciting conclusion, Angel talks to various people on the phone. Wait, let me read it over again ... yeah, no, it's just talking to people on the phone. That's it.
See you next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
Chapter 56: The Other Half (part I)
Angel felt as if her insides were made of gelatin. What had just happened? She grinned. Her phone rang.
“No way. He can’t be calling that soon,” she reasoned. But her heart leapt at the idea. But the caller ID was Dustin. [caller ID! Ha! Remember that?] She turned the ringer off and went to bed.
------
“Chris? You in there somewhere?” Justina asked, waving her arms theatrically in front of his face.
“Yeah … Yeah. Sorry, Foss. I’m just …”
“Thinking about the blonde.”
“How did you know she was blonde?”
“Benoit, you have a picture of her in your wallet.” [does anyone actually carry pictures of their girlfriends in their wallets?]
“Where did you get my wallet?”
“It’s open here on the end table. You should really keep track of it better.”
“Yeah. Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Look … I know things are really confusing for you right now. I’m sorry I complicated everything.”
“Two to tango, Foss.”
“I know. Look, Chris … I didn’t want to ruin your life.”
Chris put his hands on her shoulders and looked at her intently. “Foss, you didn’t ruin anything. I’ve just got to sort some things out.”
She took his hands into hers and kissed them. “I have to go to work. I’ll see you later.”
Chris kissed her forehead and began to pack up his gear [woo! Duffel bagging!]. He exchanged nods and smiles with the other wrestlers who filtered through the dressing room and headed into the corridor. [sooo … this whole exchange took place in a dressing room? What was Justina doing there? Why would Chris have his wallet out on a table? How many dressing/locker rooms feature end tables?]
“Hey,” someone called behind him. Chris spun around to see Dustin Rhodes.
“What?”
“You going to tell me what’s going on with Angel?” [woah, that’s a bit forward, no?]
Chris put his bags down.
“Why the hell should I? You’re the one who screwed us up in the first place. So just back off, Rodeo Clown. I have nothing to explain to you. I owe you nothing.”
“Fair enough. Look, I know you have no reason to trust me or listen to me. And I also know that you and Angel’s relationship is none of my business … But I’m worried about her.”
“Dustin, I know she’s upset, but …”
“No—it’s not that. Chris, she left a bar last night with Jeff Hardy.”
“Jeff Hardy?”
“Yes. And when I tried to stop her, she went berserk on me. Chris, that fella is just no good. Parties all the time … with a different woman every night. Now, I’m not telling you what to do or how to run your love life, but I am telling you that you were so good for Angel, and I feel like a piece of garbage for getting in between y’all, and I’d do anything to get her away from that creep. I’ve said my piece.” [how patronizingly thoughtful of you]
Chris was silent. He clenched his jaw and offered his hand to Dustin.
“I appreciate that, Dustin. She doesn’t want to talk to me right now, and I don’t blame her. I screwed up bad. Bad. It’s going to take time. And my life is really confusing right now. So please, if you could, look after her as best you can?”
“Sure thing, Chris,” said Dustin, shaking Chris’s hand.
Chris ran his fingers through his hair, [ah, the classic physical manifestation of angst] picked up his bags, and left the arena.
NOTES:
1) Don’t you love it when male characters ask other male characters to “look after” female characters as if they were small children? Way to be progressive, college me.
2) I love how everyone knows Jeff Hardy well enough to have heard of him both as a wrestler and as a womanizer, but Angel couldn’t recognize him at the bar.
3) I kind of liked Chris in this chapter. Until he started showing concern for Angel.
COMING UP NEXT ....
In this chapter's exciting conclusion, Angel talks to various people on the phone. Wait, let me read it over again ... yeah, no, it's just talking to people on the phone. That's it.
See you next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half (Part II)
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part 2)
Welcome back, all. If you've made it this far, you've got a pretty strong stomach. And trust me, you're gonna need it for today's installment.
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part 2)
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You and your brother wrestle in WWF.”
“That’s me.”
“You guys are good.” [so you’ve heard of them, know that they’re good, but can’t recognize him? Oookay.]
“You have incredible lips, Angelica Kerris.” [oh barf.]
She tilted her head to one side and gave him a lopsided grin. [tm Joey Potter, I think. I lurved me some Dawson’s Creek back in the day. And by “back in the day” I mean I might have it on in the background as I type this.] “You’re quit the charmer, aren’t you?”
He pushed the bar napkin back towards her. “Wouldn’t you like to find out for sure?”
“And so full of yourself.” But she pulled the napkin towards her and lifted the pen. Before she could put a single digit on the paper, however, she became aware of a figure hovering over her.
“This creep bothering you, Angel?”
She looked up to see Dustin giving dirty glances to Jeff. Jeff stood up and glared back. [what is Dustin doing there? Aren’t they in Minnesota?]
“He’s fine, Dustin. I’m fine.”
“Stay away from him, Angel. He’s trouble.”
“Why don’t you back off and mind your own business, cowboy?” Jeff suggested, voice low and stern.
“Why don’t you,” Dustin began, but Angel gently pushed him aside.
“I said I’m fine, Dustin. We were just leaving.”
“You’re leaving with him?”
“Yes. Goodnight. Go home to your wife. I can take care of myself.”
“Angel,” Dustin half-whispered, “I know this guy. He’s not the kind of person you want to spend your time with. Where’s Chris?”
“I appreciate you looking out for me Dustin, but don’t worry about me … and don’t even breathe that man’s name to me ever again.” She turned to Jeff. “So let’s go.”
Jeff left a twenty on the bar and put his arm around Angel, leading her out of the bar. Dustin shook his head as he watched them leave.
The night was cool and foggy, but the air smelled somewhat sweet. They walked in silence for a few blocks before Jeff spoke.
“So you have some overprotective friends.”
“And you have a crappy reputation.”
“The two obviously don’t mix.”
“I guess not.”
“So are you going to give me your phone number or what?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I going to have to thrash you at tic tac toe again?”
“Maybe.”
“Where are we going?”
“You just walked me home,” she said, stopping in front of her hotel. [huh?!?]
“How about that?”
“Can you find your way back?”
“You’re not going to invite me in?” he asked with a playful smile.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“How should I know what kind of girl you are?”
“That’s right,” Angel mused aloud. “You don’t have any clue about who I am or how I act or what kinds of things I do or anything at all.”
“That could change.”
“Walk me to my room,” she said.
They made their way through the hotel in utterly unawkward silence. As they walked, Angel marveled at what she was doing – letting a total stranger—one with an apparently dangerous reputation—take her back to her room. What was she thinking?
As they got to her door, she turned to him. She knew what she was thinking then – he was gorgeous. She looked up at him.
“So do I get your phone number now?” he asked.
She responded by pulling him down towards her and kissing him. Taken somewhat off guard, Jeff quickly responded, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her face. Neither of them seemed willing to pull away. She could not remember the last time she had been kissed with such passion. Her knees felt watery. She gripped his arms to keep her balance. [what, no marveling at how muscular his arms are?]
When the kiss finally ended, they parted and looked at each other almost quizzically.
“I could tell,” he said after a little while.
“Tell what?”
“By looking at your lips. That you’d kiss like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like … there would be no words to describe it, only somehow only better than I imagined.” [uggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg]
“Give me a break,” she said, grinning. “You probably say that to every girl you pick up at a bar.”
“Nah. Some of them. But I rarely mean it. And I never mean it this much – ever. Scout’s honor.”
“So what is it—the way they’re shaped?” [yes, Angel. The way they’re shaped. And the fact that they’re attached to you, of course, because you are the living embodiment of scrumtrulescence.]
He lifted her chin and stared intently at her lips. “Partially—have you noticed how full your lower lip is?”
Before she could say “No,” he kissed her again softly. She almost wanted to invite him in. Almost.
“So can I get your number?”
“I suppose.” She grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote her number on a scrap of paper.
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she reminded him.
“Who’s dating? We’re just hanging out.”
“That’s fine then.”
“I’ll call you sometime, Angelica.”
“Angel.”
“If you like. It was nice meeting you, Jeff.”
“You too. Sleep well.”
“Be safe.”
He kissed her forehead. Even that small act sent tiny shivers down Angel’s spine. She smiled at him and stepped into her hotel room.
NOTES:
1) Good golly, I loathe Angel. That is all.
Coming up next ...
Chris and Justina kind of sort stuff out while Dustin inserts himself into a chapter for no reason. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part 2)
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. You and your brother wrestle in WWF.”
“That’s me.”
“You guys are good.” [so you’ve heard of them, know that they’re good, but can’t recognize him? Oookay.]
“You have incredible lips, Angelica Kerris.” [oh barf.]
She tilted her head to one side and gave him a lopsided grin. [tm Joey Potter, I think. I lurved me some Dawson’s Creek back in the day. And by “back in the day” I mean I might have it on in the background as I type this.] “You’re quit the charmer, aren’t you?”
He pushed the bar napkin back towards her. “Wouldn’t you like to find out for sure?”
“And so full of yourself.” But she pulled the napkin towards her and lifted the pen. Before she could put a single digit on the paper, however, she became aware of a figure hovering over her.
“This creep bothering you, Angel?”
She looked up to see Dustin giving dirty glances to Jeff. Jeff stood up and glared back. [what is Dustin doing there? Aren’t they in Minnesota?]
“He’s fine, Dustin. I’m fine.”
“Stay away from him, Angel. He’s trouble.”
“Why don’t you back off and mind your own business, cowboy?” Jeff suggested, voice low and stern.
“Why don’t you,” Dustin began, but Angel gently pushed him aside.
“I said I’m fine, Dustin. We were just leaving.”
“You’re leaving with him?”
“Yes. Goodnight. Go home to your wife. I can take care of myself.”
“Angel,” Dustin half-whispered, “I know this guy. He’s not the kind of person you want to spend your time with. Where’s Chris?”
“I appreciate you looking out for me Dustin, but don’t worry about me … and don’t even breathe that man’s name to me ever again.” She turned to Jeff. “So let’s go.”
Jeff left a twenty on the bar and put his arm around Angel, leading her out of the bar. Dustin shook his head as he watched them leave.
The night was cool and foggy, but the air smelled somewhat sweet. They walked in silence for a few blocks before Jeff spoke.
“So you have some overprotective friends.”
“And you have a crappy reputation.”
“The two obviously don’t mix.”
“I guess not.”
“So are you going to give me your phone number or what?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I going to have to thrash you at tic tac toe again?”
“Maybe.”
“Where are we going?”
“You just walked me home,” she said, stopping in front of her hotel. [huh?!?]
“How about that?”
“Can you find your way back?”
“You’re not going to invite me in?” he asked with a playful smile.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“How should I know what kind of girl you are?”
“That’s right,” Angel mused aloud. “You don’t have any clue about who I am or how I act or what kinds of things I do or anything at all.”
“That could change.”
“Walk me to my room,” she said.
They made their way through the hotel in utterly unawkward silence. As they walked, Angel marveled at what she was doing – letting a total stranger—one with an apparently dangerous reputation—take her back to her room. What was she thinking?
As they got to her door, she turned to him. She knew what she was thinking then – he was gorgeous. She looked up at him.
“So do I get your phone number now?” he asked.
She responded by pulling him down towards her and kissing him. Taken somewhat off guard, Jeff quickly responded, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her face. Neither of them seemed willing to pull away. She could not remember the last time she had been kissed with such passion. Her knees felt watery. She gripped his arms to keep her balance. [what, no marveling at how muscular his arms are?]
When the kiss finally ended, they parted and looked at each other almost quizzically.
“I could tell,” he said after a little while.
“Tell what?”
“By looking at your lips. That you’d kiss like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like … there would be no words to describe it, only somehow only better than I imagined.” [uggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg]
“Give me a break,” she said, grinning. “You probably say that to every girl you pick up at a bar.”
“Nah. Some of them. But I rarely mean it. And I never mean it this much – ever. Scout’s honor.”
“So what is it—the way they’re shaped?” [yes, Angel. The way they’re shaped. And the fact that they’re attached to you, of course, because you are the living embodiment of scrumtrulescence.]
He lifted her chin and stared intently at her lips. “Partially—have you noticed how full your lower lip is?”
Before she could say “No,” he kissed her again softly. She almost wanted to invite him in. Almost.
“So can I get your number?”
“I suppose.” She grabbed a pen from her purse and wrote her number on a scrap of paper.
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she reminded him.
“Who’s dating? We’re just hanging out.”
“That’s fine then.”
“I’ll call you sometime, Angelica.”
“Angel.”
“If you like. It was nice meeting you, Jeff.”
“You too. Sleep well.”
“Be safe.”
He kissed her forehead. Even that small act sent tiny shivers down Angel’s spine. She smiled at him and stepped into her hotel room.
NOTES:
1) Good golly, I loathe Angel. That is all.
Coming up next ...
Chris and Justina kind of sort stuff out while Dustin inserts himself into a chapter for no reason. Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 56: The Other Half
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part I)
Greetings, all. And welcome to the Unabashedly Bad: The College Years.
In today's episode, Angel goes to a bar and has a drink. That's really pretty much all that happens. Oh, and yes, Amy. Armsocks. For serious.
Enjoy!
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part I)
Angel didn’t cry. [woah. was this chapter ghostwritten?] She had done enough crying in her life. She was done. She was also done with trying to figure out where she had gone wrong at every step in her entire relationship past. Right now, she just wanted to be alone. She didn’t answer the phone, she called in sick at work, and she deleted every message on her answering machine before she could even listen to them. She also briefly considered the following: quitting, moving, homicide, double homicide, and becoming a nun. She eventually talked herself out of each of these options, as they were all in some way impractical or illegal. But she had to do something different with herself. She couldn’t just bounce into work on Monday and smile as if her life were perfect. It was time for something different. She had been a sweet, naïve, unassuming girl all her life. All that got her was pain. Life had handed her so many lemons, but the lemonade she had turned them into was far too sweet. [see? I told you this was still bad.] Maybe it was time she spiked the lemonade.
“Okay,” she said out loud. “Okay.” She threw open the doors of her closet. [so she’s at home. In Minnesota. Remember that.] “I,” she said, grabbing a pair of heels, “am going to go to a bar and pick up men.” She put a coat of glossy red on to her lips. “No … I am going to a bar to let men try and pick up me.” She grabbed her purse and headed out. [Well that’s a stellar idea, Angel. But aren’t you afraid that your radiantly undeniable beauty will blind onlookers?]
The bar was noisy, smoky, and swarming with people. There were people in suits, people in jeans, and an alarming number of people with pronounced muscles and long hair.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Angel muttered to herself. She should’ve known better than to pick a hotel bar. Wrestlers. At least they weren’t from WCW. It looked like an odd blend of WWF guys and local indies [now why would they be mixing? And how would she know who they were?] Angel almost turned around, but then reasoned that she had nothing better to do and, seeing as how almost all the faces were unfamiliar, she might as well stay.
She sat at the end of the bar and ordered a cosmopolitan [sorry, folks. No winners this time]. She sipped it slowly and observed the throng of people. Men smiled at her. She smiled back. She had boring conversations with several forgettable guys, gave out three fake phone numbers, and switched to diet coke. Just as she was about to head out for the evening, someone leaned up against the bar right next to her.
“Leaving?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“It’s not time to leave.”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t get to talk to me yet.”
“Man, you’ve got some confidence,” she said, smiling playfully. He didn’t’ respond, but he sat down and ordered a beer, motioning for the bartender to refill Angel’s drink as well.
As he ordered the drinks, Angel stole a quick glance at him. He was definitely a wrestler – with a body that looked cut out of marble. His face was young, smooth, and sharply defined, with sideburns that sloped at steep, marked angles towards his jawline. He was wearing a white shirt and baggy black jeans. And his hair …
“Is your hair purple?”
“Some of it.”
“Ok,” she said, shrugging.
“What’s your story?”
“It’s long and repetitive.” [pfft, she should’ve just given him the url of this blog]
“So let’s make it more fun.”
“That’s a horrible pick-up line.”
He flashed a smile at her. His eyes had a dark shine to them.
“You are incredibly sexy,” he said.
“You are incredibly forward.”
“It comes with the confidence.”
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she told him, turning back to the bar.
“What gave me away? The physique or the charisma?”
“The ego.”
“So we won’t date. We’ll chill.”
“We will?”
“I think so,” he handed her a bar napkin and a pen. She pushed it back towards him and grinned, noting the number sign.
“I just wanted to play tic tac toe. I was even going to let you start.”
“Okay.” She put an O in the center box and pushed it back towards him.
“Only a sucker starts in the middle box.” He put an X in the corner.
“Is that so?” She put an O in the other corner.
“Yep.” The napkin passed between them a few more times before he emerged triumphant. “See?”
“Only a sucker thinks he can impress a lady by beating her at tic tac toe.”
“What’s your name?”
“Angelica Kerris.”
“Pretty name.”
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Yeah, a cosmo. I saw a picture of one and thought it was pretty. I also assumed that it tasted good. Blech. Yes, as Oleg pointed out, I am hardly a connoisseur of alcohol. It all tastes nasty to me. If my parents are any indication, this aversion to alcohol has saved me a good deal of money and embarassment over the years. Sorry no one won this round. I've got another one coming up in chapter 61.
2) Jeff Hardy? Yeah, I thought he was pretty hawt back in the day. He looks kinda haggard these days, though, probably because of all those crazy drugs. Plus I heard he got in trouble with the law. I don't think Angel would approve of drugs and lawbreaking, Jeffy.
3) Who loses at tic tac toe? How does any game between two rational adults not end in a tie?
4) I love how Angel completely transforms in this chapter. It's almost as if three entire years have elapsed.
Oooooooookay.
COMING UP NEXT …
Jeff attempts to charm the pants off of Angel. Then one of Angel's Bestest Friends totally harshes on her realm. Hooo boy! Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part II)
In today's episode, Angel goes to a bar and has a drink. That's really pretty much all that happens. Oh, and yes, Amy. Armsocks. For serious.
Enjoy!
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part I)
Angel didn’t cry. [woah. was this chapter ghostwritten?] She had done enough crying in her life. She was done. She was also done with trying to figure out where she had gone wrong at every step in her entire relationship past. Right now, she just wanted to be alone. She didn’t answer the phone, she called in sick at work, and she deleted every message on her answering machine before she could even listen to them. She also briefly considered the following: quitting, moving, homicide, double homicide, and becoming a nun. She eventually talked herself out of each of these options, as they were all in some way impractical or illegal. But she had to do something different with herself. She couldn’t just bounce into work on Monday and smile as if her life were perfect. It was time for something different. She had been a sweet, naïve, unassuming girl all her life. All that got her was pain. Life had handed her so many lemons, but the lemonade she had turned them into was far too sweet. [see? I told you this was still bad.] Maybe it was time she spiked the lemonade.
“Okay,” she said out loud. “Okay.” She threw open the doors of her closet. [so she’s at home. In Minnesota. Remember that.] “I,” she said, grabbing a pair of heels, “am going to go to a bar and pick up men.” She put a coat of glossy red on to her lips. “No … I am going to a bar to let men try and pick up me.” She grabbed her purse and headed out. [Well that’s a stellar idea, Angel. But aren’t you afraid that your radiantly undeniable beauty will blind onlookers?]
The bar was noisy, smoky, and swarming with people. There were people in suits, people in jeans, and an alarming number of people with pronounced muscles and long hair.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Angel muttered to herself. She should’ve known better than to pick a hotel bar. Wrestlers. At least they weren’t from WCW. It looked like an odd blend of WWF guys and local indies [now why would they be mixing? And how would she know who they were?] Angel almost turned around, but then reasoned that she had nothing better to do and, seeing as how almost all the faces were unfamiliar, she might as well stay.
She sat at the end of the bar and ordered a cosmopolitan [sorry, folks. No winners this time]. She sipped it slowly and observed the throng of people. Men smiled at her. She smiled back. She had boring conversations with several forgettable guys, gave out three fake phone numbers, and switched to diet coke. Just as she was about to head out for the evening, someone leaned up against the bar right next to her.
“Leaving?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“It’s not time to leave.”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t get to talk to me yet.”
“Man, you’ve got some confidence,” she said, smiling playfully. He didn’t’ respond, but he sat down and ordered a beer, motioning for the bartender to refill Angel’s drink as well.
As he ordered the drinks, Angel stole a quick glance at him. He was definitely a wrestler – with a body that looked cut out of marble. His face was young, smooth, and sharply defined, with sideburns that sloped at steep, marked angles towards his jawline. He was wearing a white shirt and baggy black jeans. And his hair …
“Is your hair purple?”
“Some of it.”
“Ok,” she said, shrugging.
“What’s your story?”
“It’s long and repetitive.” [pfft, she should’ve just given him the url of this blog]
“So let’s make it more fun.”
“That’s a horrible pick-up line.”
He flashed a smile at her. His eyes had a dark shine to them.
“You are incredibly sexy,” he said.
“You are incredibly forward.”
“It comes with the confidence.”
“I don’t date wrestlers,” she told him, turning back to the bar.
“What gave me away? The physique or the charisma?”
“The ego.”
“So we won’t date. We’ll chill.”
“We will?”
“I think so,” he handed her a bar napkin and a pen. She pushed it back towards him and grinned, noting the number sign.
“I just wanted to play tic tac toe. I was even going to let you start.”
“Okay.” She put an O in the center box and pushed it back towards him.
“Only a sucker starts in the middle box.” He put an X in the corner.
“Is that so?” She put an O in the other corner.
“Yep.” The napkin passed between them a few more times before he emerged triumphant. “See?”
“Only a sucker thinks he can impress a lady by beating her at tic tac toe.”
“What’s your name?”
“Angelica Kerris.”
“Pretty name.”
“You are?”
“Jeff Hardy.”
TO BE CONTINUED ...
NOTES:
1) Yeah, a cosmo. I saw a picture of one and thought it was pretty. I also assumed that it tasted good. Blech. Yes, as Oleg pointed out, I am hardly a connoisseur of alcohol. It all tastes nasty to me. If my parents are any indication, this aversion to alcohol has saved me a good deal of money and embarassment over the years. Sorry no one won this round. I've got another one coming up in chapter 61.
2) Jeff Hardy? Yeah, I thought he was pretty hawt back in the day. He looks kinda haggard these days, though, probably because of all those crazy drugs. Plus I heard he got in trouble with the law. I don't think Angel would approve of drugs and lawbreaking, Jeffy.
3) Who loses at tic tac toe? How does any game between two rational adults not end in a tie?
4) I love how Angel completely transforms in this chapter. It's almost as if three entire years have elapsed.
Oooooooookay.
COMING UP NEXT …
Jeff attempts to charm the pants off of Angel. Then one of Angel's Bestest Friends totally harshes on her realm. Hooo boy! Tune in next time for ...
Chapter 55: Reevaluation (Part II)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Chapter 54: Again
Salutations, all.
Where were we? Ah yes. Courtesy of Violet’s Evil Scheme, Chris bumped into his ex-girlfriend. Courtesy of Justina’s lavender nightie, they instantly started knocking boots. Then Angel and Scott realized that their significant others had slept together and almost had A Moment. Today: Chris talks to people on the phone.
Chapter 54: Again
Chris stared at the phone in his hand. Should he call? Shouldn’t he call? What would she say? What would he say? e looked down at the He looked down at the slip of paper and dialed the numbers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Foss.”
“Chris?”
“In the flesh … err … on the phone.”
“Dipwad.”
“Lovely.”
“I am.”
“I know.” [oh, the wittiness of this repartee]
“Benoit, we’ve been having the same conversation since we met.”
“Minus 10 years.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know. It’s kind of weird.”
“I missed your voice.”
“I did too. What happened to us?”
“Just drifted apart … one of those things. We were kids.”
“We had dreams.”
“We had different dreams.”
“Yeah we did. Looks like they’re overlapping a little now.” Chris laughed.
“I guess so. Some cosmic forces want us together.” [if by cosmic forces you mean an irrationally vindictive psycho with three names, then yes, you are correct]
“Maybe. Look, Foss. Did you tell your boyfriend about us?”
“Yeah. Didn’t take it so well. Did you tell your woman?”
“No. It’s gonna be rough.”
“I ended up dating a wrestler, you know. I guess you got me hooked.” [how? It’s not like he was a wrestler when they were in college]
“I guess so. It must be the muscles.”
“They help.”
“So, who was it?”
“Scott Steiner.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy crap.”
“What?”
“Dude is best friends with my ex.” [oh, so she’s your ex now? Does this mean that you won’t agonize over how you cheated on her? I’m guessing not.]
“Woah. Small freaking world. I guess she must know then.”
Chris was struck silent.
“Christopher?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, Foss, why don’t we meet up later or something? Tomorrow night?”
“Ok. You gonna be all right?”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
Chris hung up the phone. His head swam in circles. What was he going to do? How had his life turned upside down so quickly? Did Angel really know? Only one way to find out. He dialed her number.
“Hello?”
“Angel?”
“Chris.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Oh, you know, hanging in there.”
“Tell me it’s not true, Chris.”
“I can’t.”
“Ok.” Her voice was oddly calm.
“Angel …”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any of it. I don’t want to hear a single word of explanation. Not one lurid detail about you and her and what you did. Just leave me alone, Chris. I honestly mean it.”
“Angel …”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” she was shouting now. “I don’t want to talk to you. You’re just like all the rest of them. So go and be with your college sweetheart … go screw each others’ brains out. But don’t you ever, ever speak another word to me.”
With that, she slammed the phone down. Chris threw down the receiver and gritted his teeth.
“Angel … I’m so sorry.” He turned out the lights, sat in the dark, and stared at the ceiling. [how can he sit down and stare at the ceiling? Won’t that hurt his neck? Well, at least he’s not crying. Which is odd, because I think that this is an appropriate crying situation.]
NOTES:
1) Yes, this chapter was pretty much just people talking on the phone. Hey, at least that means no extended descriptions of the night air or, like, Angel’s internal anguish.
OK, folks. So here’s the deal: I took a lengthy break from this in 1996. In that year, I actually developed a social life, which included getting a real boyfriend. So there was actually a three-year gap between this chapter and the next one that I wrote. Yes, I was 19 when I wrote most of the rest of this. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I kept it up throughout college. Yes, some of you knew me personally when I was writing this.
So you might be saying to yourself: “You were a semi-adult when you wrote this? AND an English major? AND the editor of your college literary magazine? Why then surely what follows must be well-written, incisive prose.”
Uhm, no. No it’s not. It’s still crap. You see, even though I was older and “wiser,” I wrote this in pencil in marble notebooks and had no intention of ever showing anybody. This means I never edited it, planned ahead, or worried about the quality of the writing. It might not be as gut-wrenchingly horrific as some of the oldest stuff, but it’s still … unabashedly bad. And I’m going to keep on posting it. Yes, eventually, I will get to the point where I’m fresh out of the old stuff. But never fear; that’ll be quite a while from now. And I’ve got a plan for a fun way to continue past then.
Anyhoo … on to the matter of the next chapter.
Coming up next …
Angel goes to a bar (!) and gets hit on. You know, because she’s so beautiful and all. And at this bar, she has an alcoholic beverage (!)
BUT WHICH BEVERAGE???
That’s right … it’s another Unabashedly Bad Contest. If you can guess what alcoholic beverage our beloved Mary Sue imbibes, you will win a WWF VHS from my personal collection. Leave guesses in the comments section.
See you next time for …
Chapter 55 – Reevaluation
Where were we? Ah yes. Courtesy of Violet’s Evil Scheme, Chris bumped into his ex-girlfriend. Courtesy of Justina’s lavender nightie, they instantly started knocking boots. Then Angel and Scott realized that their significant others had slept together and almost had A Moment. Today: Chris talks to people on the phone.
Chapter 54: Again
Chris stared at the phone in his hand. Should he call? Shouldn’t he call? What would she say? What would he say? e looked down at the He looked down at the slip of paper and dialed the numbers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Foss.”
“Chris?”
“In the flesh … err … on the phone.”
“Dipwad.”
“Lovely.”
“I am.”
“I know.” [oh, the wittiness of this repartee]
“Benoit, we’ve been having the same conversation since we met.”
“Minus 10 years.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know. It’s kind of weird.”
“I missed your voice.”
“I did too. What happened to us?”
“Just drifted apart … one of those things. We were kids.”
“We had dreams.”
“We had different dreams.”
“Yeah we did. Looks like they’re overlapping a little now.” Chris laughed.
“I guess so. Some cosmic forces want us together.” [if by cosmic forces you mean an irrationally vindictive psycho with three names, then yes, you are correct]
“Maybe. Look, Foss. Did you tell your boyfriend about us?”
“Yeah. Didn’t take it so well. Did you tell your woman?”
“No. It’s gonna be rough.”
“I ended up dating a wrestler, you know. I guess you got me hooked.” [how? It’s not like he was a wrestler when they were in college]
“I guess so. It must be the muscles.”
“They help.”
“So, who was it?”
“Scott Steiner.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“Holy crap.”
“What?”
“Dude is best friends with my ex.” [oh, so she’s your ex now? Does this mean that you won’t agonize over how you cheated on her? I’m guessing not.]
“Woah. Small freaking world. I guess she must know then.”
Chris was struck silent.
“Christopher?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Hey, Foss, why don’t we meet up later or something? Tomorrow night?”
“Ok. You gonna be all right?”
“Sure. I’ll see you soon.”
Chris hung up the phone. His head swam in circles. What was he going to do? How had his life turned upside down so quickly? Did Angel really know? Only one way to find out. He dialed her number.
“Hello?”
“Angel?”
“Chris.”
“How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Oh, you know, hanging in there.”
“Tell me it’s not true, Chris.”
“I can’t.”
“Ok.” Her voice was oddly calm.
“Angel …”
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any of it. I don’t want to hear a single word of explanation. Not one lurid detail about you and her and what you did. Just leave me alone, Chris. I honestly mean it.”
“Angel …”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” she was shouting now. “I don’t want to talk to you. You’re just like all the rest of them. So go and be with your college sweetheart … go screw each others’ brains out. But don’t you ever, ever speak another word to me.”
With that, she slammed the phone down. Chris threw down the receiver and gritted his teeth.
“Angel … I’m so sorry.” He turned out the lights, sat in the dark, and stared at the ceiling. [how can he sit down and stare at the ceiling? Won’t that hurt his neck? Well, at least he’s not crying. Which is odd, because I think that this is an appropriate crying situation.]
NOTES:
1) Yes, this chapter was pretty much just people talking on the phone. Hey, at least that means no extended descriptions of the night air or, like, Angel’s internal anguish.
OK, folks. So here’s the deal: I took a lengthy break from this in 1996. In that year, I actually developed a social life, which included getting a real boyfriend. So there was actually a three-year gap between this chapter and the next one that I wrote. Yes, I was 19 when I wrote most of the rest of this. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I kept it up throughout college. Yes, some of you knew me personally when I was writing this.
So you might be saying to yourself: “You were a semi-adult when you wrote this? AND an English major? AND the editor of your college literary magazine? Why then surely what follows must be well-written, incisive prose.”
Uhm, no. No it’s not. It’s still crap. You see, even though I was older and “wiser,” I wrote this in pencil in marble notebooks and had no intention of ever showing anybody. This means I never edited it, planned ahead, or worried about the quality of the writing. It might not be as gut-wrenchingly horrific as some of the oldest stuff, but it’s still … unabashedly bad. And I’m going to keep on posting it. Yes, eventually, I will get to the point where I’m fresh out of the old stuff. But never fear; that’ll be quite a while from now. And I’ve got a plan for a fun way to continue past then.
Anyhoo … on to the matter of the next chapter.
Coming up next …
Angel goes to a bar (!) and gets hit on. You know, because she’s so beautiful and all. And at this bar, she has an alcoholic beverage (!)
BUT WHICH BEVERAGE???
That’s right … it’s another Unabashedly Bad Contest. If you can guess what alcoholic beverage our beloved Mary Sue imbibes, you will win a WWF VHS from my personal collection. Leave guesses in the comments section.
See you next time for …
Chapter 55 – Reevaluation
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Chapter 53: Company
Salutations, readers. If you enjoy playing drinking games while reading this, then I hereby suggest the following:
every time you see ellipses: take a drink
every time either Angel or Scott says the other one's name for no apparant reason: take a drink
every time Scott says "Dammit" : take a drink
every time Angel refers to Chris as "my Chris": take a drink
egregious crying: take a drink
tandem egregious crying: finish the bottle
You might not want to play this game with anything stronger than club soda. Otherwise you'll probably end up in the hospital.
Enjoy!
Chapter 53 – Company
“Dammit, Angel. Dammit, Dammit!”
“Scott, calm down, okay?” There was little she could do. Scott was, after all, a professional wrestler [and she just a helpless woman]. She put her small hands on his massive back [oh wow].
“Destroying your apartment won’t help.”
He ignored her and toppled a potted plant. [I’ve heard that Mario Batali does the same thing when he’s drunk. My brother-in-law works at a hotel where Mario stayed. No potted plant was safe.]
“Sit down, Scott.”
He complied for a second, then stood again. Angel folded her hands over his and pleaded with him to return to the couch.
“Scott, Scott. Tell me. Sit down and tell me.”
“Dammit, Angel.” His voice was much softer this time. He sank into the couch, head in hands. [could it be? Could it really be? The return of egregious crying?!?]
“What is it?”
“She cheated on me. She slept with her ex-boyfriend.”
“Justina? How did you find out?”
“She told me, Angel. Dammit, Angel. I thought … I mean I really thought she was … God.” [you thought she was God?]
Angel rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry. When did she tell you?”
“This morning.” His face was still buried in his hands. “She said she just ran into her old college sweetheart in the hotel and then one thing led to the other … Angel, how does that happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“They slept together! You don’t just run into somebody and … Dammit.”
“Maybe they just caught up in …”
“There are no excuses Angel. It happened. That Canadian whore.”
Angel giggled. “Sorry. Amusing epithet. I’ve got my own problems with Canadians these days.” She squoze Scott’s shoulder and smiled. Suddenly, an idean fringed her insides with ice. “Scott?”
“Yeah.”
“What, um, what did you say Justina’s last name was?”
“Foster. Justina Foster. Why?”
“And … what college did she go to, if you know?” Angel’s fingers shook.
“Edmonton. Freaking Canadians.”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
Angel’s chest fell into itself. She froze.
“Angel?” Scott forgot his rage as he watched his friend’s face bleed dry of color. Her lips were parted but no sounds escaped them. He shook her gently. “Angel?” Less gently.
“Chris,” she whispered.
“What?”
“She slept with my Chris.”
“No. No. What would make you think something like that?”
“That’s where I heard that name before. Justina Foster,” she spat the words. “She and Chris.” [way to jump to conclusions there, Angel. You assume that she only had ONE boyfriend throughout all four years of college??]
“Angel …” Scott clasped her hand.
“My Chris.”
“Angel …”
“God. Scott.” She broke down into sobs. [about freaking time!] Scott pressed her to his shoulder. He had no words. [finally]
“Shh.”
“My Chris. Scott … Scott …” [there’s some compelling dialogue if I ever read any.]
“Just cry, Angel. Can’t do much else.” [except knock over potted plants, apparently.]
He held her until he began to cry too. [woooo!!!] Then they held each other. [how is this physically different?] The night fell around them.
“What do we do, Scott?”
“I don’t know.”
“My Chris …” [uhm, you guys were technically broken up].
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?”
“Couple days. My Chris. Scott … I was saving myself for him. Just him.” [except you didn’t want to marry him?]
“Angel …”
“Scott, I was ready. I was going to tell him that I was ready … for him.” [WOAH. When did you arrive at this decision? You sure are good at keeping secrets. Especially from the readers].
`Shh …”
“I thought he understood. I thought he could wait … What’s wrong with me?” [oh, where does one begin?]
“Angel,” he pushed her hair behind her ears. “Angel look at me. There is nothing wrong with either you or me. We are wonderful, intelligent [snerk], attractive people.”
“Sure. Why don’t …”
“Shh. Just listen. You are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Scott …”
“No, Angel. I mean it. You are gorgeous. I’ve always thought so. From the first time we met at Sting’s party. Angel …” He cupped her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Angel,”
“Scott, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me I’m beautiful now.”
“Why?”
“It’s too easy for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Too easy for us to try to make ourselves better by … giving in.”
“Giving in to what?”
“Jealously, hurt, and …”
“And …?”
“An undeniable mutual attraction.” [where did THAT come from?]
“Angel. I’m not trying to take advantage of you.” He stroked her hair.
“I know that Scott. I’m not accusing you of that. But I know how broken we both are. And I know how badly we … at least I … am fighting the urge to …”
“To?”
“To … do what … we …” She looked away. Her hands trembled
Scott cupped her chin in his hands again.
“No,” Angel said, pulling away. “This is wrong. It’s all wrong. We can’t.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, Angel. Why us? Why do we have the worst relationship luck on the whole planet?” [maybe it’s not luck so much as the fact that you’re both seriously screwed up]
“I dunno, Scott. Just lucky I guess.”
“Lucky,” Scott said sourly. “Lucky. Justina and Chris should be so lucky. Angel, when I see him, I’m going to bash his pointy face in .”
“Scott …”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t. I’m going home, Angel. [uhm … aren’t you in your apartment already?] Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Scott. I’ll be in touch.”
NOTES:
1) Scangel? Gross. But maybe they deserve each other? Still. Gross.
2) Hey, everyone … just in case you didn’t know: Angel is the most beautifullest girl on the planet. EVER. No man can resist her charms.
3) WTF was up with all of shocking left-field revelations in this chapter? And the sudden violent streak emerging in Scott? Oh, whatever.
COMING UP NEXT
Angel confronts Chris. Sort of. Well ... it’s slightly more confrontational than her confrontation with Marcus. It's pretty dang nonconfrontational as far as confrontations go.
See you then for ...
Chapter 54 - Again
every time you see ellipses: take a drink
every time either Angel or Scott says the other one's name for no apparant reason: take a drink
every time Scott says "Dammit" : take a drink
every time Angel refers to Chris as "my Chris": take a drink
egregious crying: take a drink
tandem egregious crying: finish the bottle
You might not want to play this game with anything stronger than club soda. Otherwise you'll probably end up in the hospital.
Enjoy!
Chapter 53 – Company
“Dammit, Angel. Dammit, Dammit!”
“Scott, calm down, okay?” There was little she could do. Scott was, after all, a professional wrestler [and she just a helpless woman]. She put her small hands on his massive back [oh wow].
“Destroying your apartment won’t help.”
He ignored her and toppled a potted plant. [I’ve heard that Mario Batali does the same thing when he’s drunk. My brother-in-law works at a hotel where Mario stayed. No potted plant was safe.]
“Sit down, Scott.”
He complied for a second, then stood again. Angel folded her hands over his and pleaded with him to return to the couch.
“Scott, Scott. Tell me. Sit down and tell me.”
“Dammit, Angel.” His voice was much softer this time. He sank into the couch, head in hands. [could it be? Could it really be? The return of egregious crying?!?]
“What is it?”
“She cheated on me. She slept with her ex-boyfriend.”
“Justina? How did you find out?”
“She told me, Angel. Dammit, Angel. I thought … I mean I really thought she was … God.” [you thought she was God?]
Angel rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry. When did she tell you?”
“This morning.” His face was still buried in his hands. “She said she just ran into her old college sweetheart in the hotel and then one thing led to the other … Angel, how does that happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“They slept together! You don’t just run into somebody and … Dammit.”
“Maybe they just caught up in …”
“There are no excuses Angel. It happened. That Canadian whore.”
Angel giggled. “Sorry. Amusing epithet. I’ve got my own problems with Canadians these days.” She squoze Scott’s shoulder and smiled. Suddenly, an idean fringed her insides with ice. “Scott?”
“Yeah.”
“What, um, what did you say Justina’s last name was?”
“Foster. Justina Foster. Why?”
“And … what college did she go to, if you know?” Angel’s fingers shook.
“Edmonton. Freaking Canadians.”
“Oh no.”
“What?”
Angel’s chest fell into itself. She froze.
“Angel?” Scott forgot his rage as he watched his friend’s face bleed dry of color. Her lips were parted but no sounds escaped them. He shook her gently. “Angel?” Less gently.
“Chris,” she whispered.
“What?”
“She slept with my Chris.”
“No. No. What would make you think something like that?”
“That’s where I heard that name before. Justina Foster,” she spat the words. “She and Chris.” [way to jump to conclusions there, Angel. You assume that she only had ONE boyfriend throughout all four years of college??]
“Angel …” Scott clasped her hand.
“My Chris.”
“Angel …”
“God. Scott.” She broke down into sobs. [about freaking time!] Scott pressed her to his shoulder. He had no words. [finally]
“Shh.”
“My Chris. Scott … Scott …” [there’s some compelling dialogue if I ever read any.]
“Just cry, Angel. Can’t do much else.” [except knock over potted plants, apparently.]
He held her until he began to cry too. [woooo!!!] Then they held each other. [how is this physically different?] The night fell around them.
“What do we do, Scott?”
“I don’t know.”
“My Chris …” [uhm, you guys were technically broken up].
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?”
“Couple days. My Chris. Scott … I was saving myself for him. Just him.” [except you didn’t want to marry him?]
“Angel …”
“Scott, I was ready. I was going to tell him that I was ready … for him.” [WOAH. When did you arrive at this decision? You sure are good at keeping secrets. Especially from the readers].
`Shh …”
“I thought he understood. I thought he could wait … What’s wrong with me?” [oh, where does one begin?]
“Angel,” he pushed her hair behind her ears. “Angel look at me. There is nothing wrong with either you or me. We are wonderful, intelligent [snerk], attractive people.”
“Sure. Why don’t …”
“Shh. Just listen. You are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Scott …”
“No, Angel. I mean it. You are gorgeous. I’ve always thought so. From the first time we met at Sting’s party. Angel …” He cupped her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Angel,”
“Scott, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me I’m beautiful now.”
“Why?”
“It’s too easy for us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Too easy for us to try to make ourselves better by … giving in.”
“Giving in to what?”
“Jealously, hurt, and …”
“And …?”
“An undeniable mutual attraction.” [where did THAT come from?]
“Angel. I’m not trying to take advantage of you.” He stroked her hair.
“I know that Scott. I’m not accusing you of that. But I know how broken we both are. And I know how badly we … at least I … am fighting the urge to …”
“To?”
“To … do what … we …” She looked away. Her hands trembled
Scott cupped her chin in his hands again.
“No,” Angel said, pulling away. “This is wrong. It’s all wrong. We can’t.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, Angel. Why us? Why do we have the worst relationship luck on the whole planet?” [maybe it’s not luck so much as the fact that you’re both seriously screwed up]
“I dunno, Scott. Just lucky I guess.”
“Lucky,” Scott said sourly. “Lucky. Justina and Chris should be so lucky. Angel, when I see him, I’m going to bash his pointy face in .”
“Scott …”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t. I’m going home, Angel. [uhm … aren’t you in your apartment already?] Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Scott. I’ll be in touch.”
NOTES:
1) Scangel? Gross. But maybe they deserve each other? Still. Gross.
2) Hey, everyone … just in case you didn’t know: Angel is the most beautifullest girl on the planet. EVER. No man can resist her charms.
3) WTF was up with all of shocking left-field revelations in this chapter? And the sudden violent streak emerging in Scott? Oh, whatever.
COMING UP NEXT
Angel confronts Chris. Sort of. Well ... it’s slightly more confrontational than her confrontation with Marcus. It's pretty dang nonconfrontational as far as confrontations go.
See you then for ...
Chapter 54 - Again
Monday, August 31, 2009
Chapter 51: In the Dark
Chapter 51: In the Dark
The phone rang, jarring Angel from a sleep she had entered with great difficulty.
“Hello,” she rasped.
“Ang? Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Sorta. What’s up, Scott?”
“Not much – what are you doing asleep?” [what kind of a question is that?]
“What are you doing awake? It’s … oh, it’s only 9:30, sorry.”
“Are you sick?”
“No, no.”
“Then what? You sound distressed.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s Chris.” [you remember that she has a boyfriend? And that this boyfriend has a name? how novel!]
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“It’s such a long story.”
“I have a while.”
“You’re sure you want to hear this?” [why isn’t she asking this of the readers?]
“Of course.”
“Okay.” Angel told him the entire story, from her kiss with Dustin to their pact to say away from each other for a few weeks. [her and Dustin’s pact? Of course not. Why would Angel and Dustin try to stay away from each other when instead they can be having sock-optional sleepovers?]
“That’s rough, Ang. I’m sorry.”
“Could be worse,” she sighed. [hey! Irony! Look how unsubtle!]
“Don’t worry. You two were made for each other. It’ll be okay.” [AngelSense™]
“I hope so. So what’s new with you, Scott?”
“I’m in love!” he nearly shouted. [that’s nice. That’s exactly what you say to someone who is having relationship troubles bad enough to alter her sleeping patterns.]
“That’s fabulous! Is it that woman you told me about before? What was her name … Justine?”
“Justina, and yes, she puts Marie in the dust.”
“Great! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I just called to tell you that she got a job at WCW with you, so maybe you can see her around.”
“Ooh! We can gossip about you!”
“Uh-oh. I’d better look out.”
Angel giggled. “What’s her last name?”
“Foster. She’s soooo beautiful.” [I can’t believe he didn’t offer up this information, as well as her hair and eye color, the second Angel picked up the phone.]
Foster … Justina Foster … Angel thought and thought but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard that name before.
“Can’t wait to meet her. Scott, nothing personal, but I’m dead tired.”
“Oh. Ok. Sorry to wake you.”
“That’s allright. I’ll see you soon.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Scott nearly bouncing off the walls with joy, Angel trying to dispel that nagging feeling she had that something was terribly out of kilter.
NOTES:
1) How can Angel not remember Justina’s name? Don’t you pay a lot of attention to your significant others when they discuss exes? Because that’s interesting stuff and it gives you all kinds of insight into their personalities and whatnot. And then you gladly accept the invitation your partner gives you to look at old pictures from college and you scrutinize the photos of him and his old girlfriends to make sure that you are prettier. Or maybe that’s just me. Wait, where was I? Ah yes. Justina. Well, let’s just chalk this one up to plot contrivance.
2) I would actually like to see Angel and Justina gossiping about Scott. I wonder how long it would take before Justina asked Angel if Scott has always had such a bizarre relationship with his brother and such confusing sexual mores, to which Angel would reply: “What are you talking about? Let’s get back to me here.”
COMING UP NEXT …
Justina and Chris stave off guilt by having at it once more, then Chris takes a trip down memory lane. See what I thought people did in college years before I actually went there. It’s a long chapter, so I think I’m going to split it up. The second part will feature a contest! Wheee!
Tune in next week for … Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
The phone rang, jarring Angel from a sleep she had entered with great difficulty.
“Hello,” she rasped.
“Ang? Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Sorta. What’s up, Scott?”
“Not much – what are you doing asleep?” [what kind of a question is that?]
“What are you doing awake? It’s … oh, it’s only 9:30, sorry.”
“Are you sick?”
“No, no.”
“Then what? You sound distressed.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s Chris.” [you remember that she has a boyfriend? And that this boyfriend has a name? how novel!]
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“It’s such a long story.”
“I have a while.”
“You’re sure you want to hear this?” [why isn’t she asking this of the readers?]
“Of course.”
“Okay.” Angel told him the entire story, from her kiss with Dustin to their pact to say away from each other for a few weeks. [her and Dustin’s pact? Of course not. Why would Angel and Dustin try to stay away from each other when instead they can be having sock-optional sleepovers?]
“That’s rough, Ang. I’m sorry.”
“Could be worse,” she sighed. [hey! Irony! Look how unsubtle!]
“Don’t worry. You two were made for each other. It’ll be okay.” [AngelSense™]
“I hope so. So what’s new with you, Scott?”
“I’m in love!” he nearly shouted. [that’s nice. That’s exactly what you say to someone who is having relationship troubles bad enough to alter her sleeping patterns.]
“That’s fabulous! Is it that woman you told me about before? What was her name … Justine?”
“Justina, and yes, she puts Marie in the dust.”
“Great! I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I just called to tell you that she got a job at WCW with you, so maybe you can see her around.”
“Ooh! We can gossip about you!”
“Uh-oh. I’d better look out.”
Angel giggled. “What’s her last name?”
“Foster. She’s soooo beautiful.” [I can’t believe he didn’t offer up this information, as well as her hair and eye color, the second Angel picked up the phone.]
Foster … Justina Foster … Angel thought and thought but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard that name before.
“Can’t wait to meet her. Scott, nothing personal, but I’m dead tired.”
“Oh. Ok. Sorry to wake you.”
“That’s allright. I’ll see you soon.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Scott nearly bouncing off the walls with joy, Angel trying to dispel that nagging feeling she had that something was terribly out of kilter.
NOTES:
1) How can Angel not remember Justina’s name? Don’t you pay a lot of attention to your significant others when they discuss exes? Because that’s interesting stuff and it gives you all kinds of insight into their personalities and whatnot. And then you gladly accept the invitation your partner gives you to look at old pictures from college and you scrutinize the photos of him and his old girlfriends to make sure that you are prettier. Or maybe that’s just me. Wait, where was I? Ah yes. Justina. Well, let’s just chalk this one up to plot contrivance.
2) I would actually like to see Angel and Justina gossiping about Scott. I wonder how long it would take before Justina asked Angel if Scott has always had such a bizarre relationship with his brother and such confusing sexual mores, to which Angel would reply: “What are you talking about? Let’s get back to me here.”
COMING UP NEXT …
Justina and Chris stave off guilt by having at it once more, then Chris takes a trip down memory lane. See what I thought people did in college years before I actually went there. It’s a long chapter, so I think I’m going to split it up. The second part will feature a contest! Wheee!
Tune in next week for … Chapter 52: Reprocussion [sic] Discussion (Part I)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Chapter 48: Confession (Part II)
Welcome, welcome, welcome! Well, I’m sure you were all crying buckets all week as you worried yourselves sick over the troubles rocking the S.S. Changel. Therefore, without further ado, I humbly present to you the inconclusive conclusion to Chapter 48.
Huzzah.
Chapter 48 – Confession (Part II)
“Chris?”
“I don’t know, Angel. God knows I want to believe you.” He spun and faced her, face wet with tears. “It hurts, Angel! It hurts that I should even have to think about you and anyone else.”
“I know.”
He walked close to her and locked eyes with her. “Tell me the truth.”
“I swear to you that nothing happened that night. And I swear that I love you, Chris. With all my heart.”
He continued to stare into her red eyes for a long while until he finally said, “I believe you, Angel.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled shakily. “Thank God.”
“But Angel, I don’t think we should see each other for a while. This is too much.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what else to do. We’re no good right now. I think we both need to take a step back and realize what is going on. ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t know now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I am too. But what’s done is done. The only thing we can do now is hope our future will be brighter.”
“Three weeks. If we can survive that, we can survive anything.” [of course. Three weeks is the ideal amount of time to prove that you can spend a lifetime together]
“That sounds like a good amount of time to me.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Oh, Angel. I love you too. And we can get through this. I know we can.”
“Yeah.”
“I should go now.”
“Ok.” She said softly.
Chris walked towards the door with Angel following close behind. She had no clue as to what to say next.
“Drive safely,” she murmured.
“Sure.” He looked at her for a long time before he closed the door behind him.
Angel expected herself to break down into tears the moment he left, but she didn’t [wtf? Is she feeling a bit off today?] She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Bobby. She wanted to talk to … Mr. P, Scott, Rick, Dustin, anyone. [Sure, Dustin would be a capital idea.] The last thing she wanted was to be alone. Her eyes fell on Dustin’s sock. The tears welled in her eyes, but instead of reaching for the box of tissues [why would she have to reach for them? Aren’t they always on her person?], she reached for the telephone. Who should she call? She picked up the receiver and listened to the dial tone. Suddenly, Felicia’s face popped into her head. [She remembered the conversation they had had earlier.
“What the heck,” Angel thought. She dialed Felicia’s number and waited for her to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Felicia?”
“Yes.”
“This is Angelica Kerris.”
“Oh. Hi. What’s up?”
So Angel told her about the entire talk she had just had with Chris, from the moment he stepped into her house to the moment he walked out the door. When she was finished, she breathed a heavy sigh and waited for Felicia to say something. When she finally opened her mouth, Angel was shocked.
“It’s definitely for the better, Angel. You really need to date more people.”
“What?!? I don’t want to date anyone else. I want Chris! I love Chris!”
“Hmm ... what do you think about him dating other women?”
“Why?”
“Oh don’t worry! I’m not interested! I’m engaged! I’m just wondering.”
“Oh. Sorry. Uh … I don’t know, Felicia. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think he’s thinking about anyone else.”
“Were you this jealous when you two were going out?” [Ha! This is like the opposite of AngelSense© Brand advice.]
“I’m not jealous, just worried. And I have reason to be! You were right! He did kiss another woman.”
“Really? Oh, honey, this wasn’t meant to be.”
“You’re sure?”
“Well … give it a few weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Angel, I have to go, sorry.”
“Okay, thanks Felicia.”
“No problem.”
As soon as Angel hung up the phone, Felicia giggled to herself and dialed another number.
“Hello?”
“It’s Felicia.”
“Oh? News?”
“Plenty.” Felicia quickly retold the entire story.
“Perfect!” shouted Violet. “Phase three is in effect as of now. Before you know it, we’ll both have our revenge on Angelica. This was too easy.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“No. But the rest is a snap. We’ll just put the right people in the right places at the right times and let nature run its course. It’s like a giant chess game, really. Angel is the opponent’s king, Chris her loyal Queen, our little redhead the pawn. [what is Felicia? The rook?] And when the pawn takes the Queen the King is wide open for a checkmate. Well done, Felicia.”
NOTES:
1) Phase three is in effect? And a grotesquely overwrought chess metaphor? Egad. This villain talk is getting to be a bit much, even for me.
2) So Felicia also wants revenge on Angel. Because … uhm … of … that thing. That happened. Way back when. You know. That thing.
COMING UP NEXT …
Violet’s Evil Scheme hits the big time. Will Chris take the bait? Will Justina have to fill out any more surveys? Will we get any actual clue as to why Felicia exists? BONUS: outfit description! Join us next time for ...
Chapter 49: Check
Huzzah.
Chapter 48 – Confession (Part II)
“Chris?”
“I don’t know, Angel. God knows I want to believe you.” He spun and faced her, face wet with tears. “It hurts, Angel! It hurts that I should even have to think about you and anyone else.”
“I know.”
He walked close to her and locked eyes with her. “Tell me the truth.”
“I swear to you that nothing happened that night. And I swear that I love you, Chris. With all my heart.”
He continued to stare into her red eyes for a long while until he finally said, “I believe you, Angel.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled shakily. “Thank God.”
“But Angel, I don’t think we should see each other for a while. This is too much.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what else to do. We’re no good right now. I think we both need to take a step back and realize what is going on. ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t know now.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I am too. But what’s done is done. The only thing we can do now is hope our future will be brighter.”
“Three weeks. If we can survive that, we can survive anything.” [of course. Three weeks is the ideal amount of time to prove that you can spend a lifetime together]
“That sounds like a good amount of time to me.”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Oh, Angel. I love you too. And we can get through this. I know we can.”
“Yeah.”
“I should go now.”
“Ok.” She said softly.
Chris walked towards the door with Angel following close behind. She had no clue as to what to say next.
“Drive safely,” she murmured.
“Sure.” He looked at her for a long time before he closed the door behind him.
Angel expected herself to break down into tears the moment he left, but she didn’t [wtf? Is she feeling a bit off today?] She wanted to talk to someone. She wanted to talk to Bobby. She wanted to talk to … Mr. P, Scott, Rick, Dustin, anyone. [Sure, Dustin would be a capital idea.] The last thing she wanted was to be alone. Her eyes fell on Dustin’s sock. The tears welled in her eyes, but instead of reaching for the box of tissues [why would she have to reach for them? Aren’t they always on her person?], she reached for the telephone. Who should she call? She picked up the receiver and listened to the dial tone. Suddenly, Felicia’s face popped into her head. [She remembered the conversation they had had earlier.
“What the heck,” Angel thought. She dialed Felicia’s number and waited for her to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Felicia?”
“Yes.”
“This is Angelica Kerris.”
“Oh. Hi. What’s up?”
So Angel told her about the entire talk she had just had with Chris, from the moment he stepped into her house to the moment he walked out the door. When she was finished, she breathed a heavy sigh and waited for Felicia to say something. When she finally opened her mouth, Angel was shocked.
“It’s definitely for the better, Angel. You really need to date more people.”
“What?!? I don’t want to date anyone else. I want Chris! I love Chris!”
“Hmm ... what do you think about him dating other women?”
“Why?”
“Oh don’t worry! I’m not interested! I’m engaged! I’m just wondering.”
“Oh. Sorry. Uh … I don’t know, Felicia. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think he’s thinking about anyone else.”
“Were you this jealous when you two were going out?” [Ha! This is like the opposite of AngelSense© Brand advice.]
“I’m not jealous, just worried. And I have reason to be! You were right! He did kiss another woman.”
“Really? Oh, honey, this wasn’t meant to be.”
“You’re sure?”
“Well … give it a few weeks.”
“Okay.”
“Angel, I have to go, sorry.”
“Okay, thanks Felicia.”
“No problem.”
As soon as Angel hung up the phone, Felicia giggled to herself and dialed another number.
“Hello?”
“It’s Felicia.”
“Oh? News?”
“Plenty.” Felicia quickly retold the entire story.
“Perfect!” shouted Violet. “Phase three is in effect as of now. Before you know it, we’ll both have our revenge on Angelica. This was too easy.”
“It’s not over yet.”
“No. But the rest is a snap. We’ll just put the right people in the right places at the right times and let nature run its course. It’s like a giant chess game, really. Angel is the opponent’s king, Chris her loyal Queen, our little redhead the pawn. [what is Felicia? The rook?] And when the pawn takes the Queen the King is wide open for a checkmate. Well done, Felicia.”
NOTES:
1) Phase three is in effect? And a grotesquely overwrought chess metaphor? Egad. This villain talk is getting to be a bit much, even for me.
2) So Felicia also wants revenge on Angel. Because … uhm … of … that thing. That happened. Way back when. You know. That thing.
COMING UP NEXT …
Violet’s Evil Scheme hits the big time. Will Chris take the bait? Will Justina have to fill out any more surveys? Will we get any actual clue as to why Felicia exists? BONUS: outfit description! Join us next time for ...
Chapter 49: Check
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