I’ll keep working on a list for you…
During the day, her phone had beeped, but she had a line of customers at the desk and had to wait to check it because she had no idea if it was more flirting or not, and something like that she wanted to savor. Sure enough, Drake had texted a photo ofhim at practice, in the dugout, with a few guys behind him. They were all goofing off, sticking out their tongues, holding up two fingers in a peace sign, and acting like fools…
And she loved it.
Zooming in, she cropped the photo until it was just him, standing there with one eye closed, his tongue sticking out to the side, and two fingers up by his cheekbone. There was a smudge of dirt on his chin, a bit of sweat on his brow, and his baseball cap was slightly askew… and it made a perfect wallpaper for her cell phone. This fool, her neighbor, her dance partner this evening, was her fiancé according to the entire world – and was quickly becoming her best friend despite it all.
Looking at her ring, his photo, and taking a moment to text him back – a part of her wondered what it would be like if any of this became real. Shaking off the thoughts, she smiled at the image once more and went back to work.
During her lunch break, she had a string of text messages from Drake – none of them comforting or instilling confidence in her.
Slight problem with the car…
Turns out that you cannot purchase rust that old…
Not on the US market…
It can be converted to Tetanus, tho!
Some scientist called me asking if I’d take $1 buck in exchange for making it a coral reef – I was slightly insulted and told him it would take at least twenty.
You know, I was shocked to discover that the car was once purple. I thought you bought it in Rustoleum Orange…
Apparently, when they removed a bolt, there was a fleck of purple paint underneath. No worries – it’s gone now. No one knows your purplish secret.
You could keep the Camry… seriously.
Ever heard the term, ‘it’s cheaper to keep ‘er’. In some instances, it’s talking about ex-wives. In this moment, I am talking about YOU.
Let’s talk while we practice tonight about the heap that shall henceforth and forever be known as Lockjaw-the-Clown-Car
“What the…” Staring at her phone, re-reading everything, she opted to call the dealership and was left on hold for several minutes before the call was disconnected. Frustrated, she called Drake and got his voicemail.
“Um, if you are calling from the Texas Rangers – YES! I can be there next week and would love to be your starting player. If you are my agent, I’ll call you back – and if you are calling from the Timberwolves,como se dice in español‘more moolah’ and ‘I love you, boo!’ – oh yeah – and BEEP-Beep, boys – word to your mother!”
Drake said in the most irritating and annoying way possible, dragging out the word ‘boy’ like he was Vanilla Ice or something. Just before she was about to blast his recording… his voice popped back on.
“Family unit – I love you. I don’t ever check this. Text me and Kisses! Muah!”
And then the phone beeped.
Family unit? Kisses? Wait – he doesn’t check his voicemails?It was so startling that she burst out laughing on the recording – and she was certain that she wasn’t the only person to ever do so. Still chuckling, she hung up and texted him.
You have the weirdest voicemail greeting – and yes, we’ll talk about the car while I dance upon your toes with pointy shoes that you’ve supplied me. See you at six, Dubious Worrier…
Smiling, she went back to work, and her afternoon passed much faster, knowing that she was going to have a time talking to this weird guy this evening about her car… while in his arms being twirled around.
“It’s so hard to be me sometimes,” she whispered aloud – but didn’t mean it in the slightest. Actually, things were pretty great right now, and it galled her to admit that it was because of one particular person.
Drake.
Hours later,Steffi was retracting every good thing she’d ever thought or said about him.
“What are you – bodily-dyslexic? Hold up your hands and make an ‘L’ with yo’ digits –because that’s the indicator of your left foot!”
“A – there is no such thing as bodily-dyslexic… and B – you are a crummy teacher!” she clapped back at him, pointing angrily. “You said ‘start with your left foot’ – so I did.”
“I said, ‘let’s start with the right’ and followed that with ‘wow, your left foot in that shoe looks like a hoof’. How did you mix that up?”