Love on Wheelz

When I was in high school, I had a nurse, and my brother had an assistant. Because they worked together, they got to know each other pretty well. They eventually started dating each other. They never hid it from my parents and they didn’t mind. So I always saw them being affectionate towards each other, little pecks on the cheek and hugs. They always looked so happy with each other, I told my nurse that I wanted what they had. That was around four years ago, and I still haven’t come close to having anything resembling a girlfriend. Hell, with the exception of Roxanne, I haven’t had any serious prospects at all.

It’s not like I haven’t tried. God knows I’ve tried. But I can’t seem to meet anyone anywhere I go. I’m too scared to start a conversation with a stranger and strangers never start conversations with me. I’m always afraid that they won’t understand what I say (I have a nasally voice) or what they’re reaction will be like. Just thinking about going up to a stranger, makes my chest and face all red and my head starts pounding, and it gets worse with a girl. Intellectually, I know nothing bad is going to happen if I try to start a conversation. If anything, my disability might give me an advantage because not many people want to be mean to a disabled person (I’m not saying I agree with the special treatment, it’s just the reality of the situation). But that’s not what I feel. What I feel is an incredible fear of rejection. I want everyone to like me because I’m tired of being an outcast. I’m tired of having no friends, no life, no parties. I want to be my age. I want to be an irresponsible twenty year old. I want to experience my fucking youth. And having a girlfriend is part of being young. Because I have such difficulty meeting girls in real life, I’ve been trying dating websites, it’s easier to display my personality through the internet since it removes all the physical limitations, but that hasn’t been much better.

It doesn’t matter what I say, it ends in one of two ways: They either don’t respond at all, or they do but, after talking, they say they’re not really looking to date. Which I suspect is just a nice way of saying they’re not interested, otherwise why be on a dating website? I’m very tempted to blame it on my appearance, it probably does factor in, but I should be able to overcome it. It’s not exactly rocket science here. All I need to do is make them laugh and sound confident in myself. I can do both pretty okay, believe it or not. The key word here is sound, because I’m not really all that confident in myself , I can just fake it real well. You wouldn’t know it if you met me in real life, sure I’m quiet at first, but I don’t shut up once I’m comfortable with someone. I seem peppy and cheerful, but I’m always wondering what people think about me. Can they hear the wheeze in my breath? How much does it bother them? I’m always wondering what people think of me and I need their validation. I guess that’s part of it, the constant need for validation. That’s not my only reason for wanting a girlfriend, of course. I want the companionship that comes with a relationship. It’d be nice to have someone I could be my complete myself and spend Friday nights with.

Lots of people have suggested that I get a hooker if I want companionship, but I don’t want my first time to be paid for. It would be admitting that I can’t get a girl on my own. That, for the first time in my life, I couldn’t accomplish something that I set out to do. Beyond that, the relationship between a client and a hooker is so fake. She doesn’t mean anything she says and she doesn’t care about you. Every action, word and gesture is an act so she can make more money. It doesn’t matter that I’d get off, it would be hollow and meaningless. My first time doesn’t have to be special with candles and roses, it just has to be genuine. I want the girl to want to be with me because she likes me, not because I paid her bills. I need to feel like I can be like other normal guys my age. If I know that I can attract a girl, it’ll make me feel validated and more confident in myself. It’s probably not healthy to base my self-esteem tied up on things beyond my control, but that’s where I am right now.

It’s not even completely about sex anymore. I just want to feel wanted by a girl. Being rejected and ignored so much makes me think that I’m broken in some way. That I’m just built differently than everyone else. That my brain is wired different and I just Maybe there are some girls out there who’d be into me, I’m just getting less and less optimistic that I’ll ever find one of them.

I can’t tell my family this. It’s too personal and embarrassing. I don’t like them knowing that I’m not okay. I’m the strong one. I’m the one that can handle everything thrown at him. I’m always in control . Showing them my emotions makes me feel vulnerable and awkward and completely not in control. It gives them the control. Not to mention having to withstand questions about my feelings. It’s much easier to tell a bunch of strangers about what I feel than them. They don’t even know about this site. It’s my secret. They never see this side of me because I never show it. Maybe because I feel like it’s the only part of my life they don’t have access to, and I want to keep it that way. Very few people who know me in real life know about the whole me. It takes a very special person to know all of me. And, ultimately, that’s all I’m looking for.

It’s storming here in San Diego. We are not used to rain here in SoCal. much less a storm with tornado warnings. Needless to say, everybody is freaking the fuck out.

FundieNurse took the opportunity to show off her meteorological skills. She came in with the newspaper in her hand and showed me a picture of our mayor with his gay daughter and her wife. The caption said something about fighting for gay marriage in SF.

“What? I asked her.

“‘HER wife’” She pointed.

“Yeah, so?”

“They are the reason for the storm. It’s coming to sweep them away.” I deadpanned. I’ve completely given ul on arguing with her, logic has no place here.

But if I die in a tornado, blame the gays.

“Move, you’re in the way.” My dad yelled at me. He was getting my brother ready to go out. I moved, out of the way and into the hallway. He always takes so long to ge ready, my brother does. He’s like me at that age, only much worse. I could deal with the physical pain of being up in my chair. I could dealwith it because… I needed to. I knew I my mind couldn’t take being a shut-in. The loneliness and isolation would take me over and send me into a deep depression. My brother doesn’t have that… instinct, if that’s the word. That’s why I don’t like going out with him. Everytime I look at him in his wheelchair I see me at my worst. I see how bad I looked and how bad I could get. But Rodrigo changes him. He gives him motivation, at least for a little while.

“Raul, move!” This time it was my mom. I haven’t been happy lately. Losing Roxanne crushed me.Not because I was madly in love with her, don’t get me wrong I liked her a lot, but that wasn’t the reason. The reason was that she gave me a tangible goal to work towards. She was the light at the end of my dark tunnel. But now there is no light. I’m back to feeling around in the dark and no sense of direction. I don’t know up from down or left from right. If I could just find another light, I could find my way again. But my mind can barely take it anymore. I live inside it and my thoughts keep me company. Where my brother needed Rodrigo to get motivated and have the urge to get out of bed, I need him so I can stay sane and get out of my head.

I was in the hallway, out of the way. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I wanted to cry for one reason. All the yelling to get out of the way, all I wanted was a quiet place to be alone with my thoughts.

“What are you doing in here?” Asked my dad.

“I… uh… dunno. I was just…”

“Move! Move! People use this hallway.” I couldn’t even get some quiet time in my own house. So I went to the living room where there was no one around. Nick was lurking behind me, trying to not get me to notice he was there. But I saw his reflection in the window, pacing back and forth. He occasionally peered over my shoulder to see if I needed anything.

I wondered why I felt the way I did. Rodrigo was there and I should’ve been happy. But I wasn’t for some reason. I think I realized that Rodrigo being there was temporary and that life would go back to normal. Any happiness he brought was temporary. And normal life sucks for me right now. I don’t know any girls or guys my age. I have no one I can really talk to besides Rodrigo, not even my family. I feel completely and utt

I was pacing frantically in room. Well, my room isn’t big enoughto pace in, so I was really just going in circles. She was coming over for the first time in a week and this was the night. I remembered the hurt and disappointment, and I didn’t want to feel like that ever again. In this case, the devil I knew was worse than the devil I didn’t.

So I spun and I rehearsed my very awesome confession of undying love. It was an oratory masterpiece on par with Jerry McGuire’s “You had me at hello”. I stopped half-way through my 10^th spin because she appeared right in front of me. She looked confused.

“Oh.” I said like I’d just been caught listening to Miley Cyrus, “What’s up?”

“Eh, not much. Work work work. Too much work.”

“Well stop woking so much then.” I laughed.

“The money’s too good.”

“Yeah, but you’ll never be able to enjoy it if you’re always working.”

“True. But…” her voice went down to a whisper, “My mom’s been having money problems, so I want to help her out.” I couldn’t really argue with that.

“Let’s go outside.” I needed privacy in order to spit my mad game. Our moms were coming home soon, so I figured I had to move fast. But I couldn’t find the perfect moment that I had last time. I didn’t realize that moments like those only come around once every thousand tries until after our moms came home.

“Are we leaving now?” She asked her mom. My heart dropped so far into my stomach that I thought it was gonna come out my asshole.

“Nah, we’re staying for a little bit.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Still, I didn’t know how I was going to do it. I thought about it as we talked. Then, as I wondered how to get her alone, something clicked in my head that made me go, “fuck it”.

“Hey, I need to talk to you before you leave.” I told her with confidence.

“Oh, okay. Let’s go over there.” She motioned toward the otherside of the patio. All my confidence melted in that second.

“Oh, it doesn’t have to be n–” It was too late, she was already going over there. I followed.

“What’s up?” she said cheerfully.

I felt sick. “I… umm…” I was losing it. I was buckling under pressure. “Sorry, this is hard for me.” I mumbled. Spit it out, dipshit! “I kinda have a crush on you.” Not exactly what I had planned, but it felt like a huge weight off my shoulders. Yes, I could’ve executed the whole thing a bit better, but at least I could say I had tried my best. And that was a big step up from not trying at all. For a second there, I forgot that she hadn’t answered.

“Aww. That’s really sweet.” Fuck, “You know what I think it is though? I think you just need to meet more girls. You haven’t hung out with that many girls. And I think as you meet more girls, you’ll be able to have a whole stable of girls that you’ll be able to choose from. You just need to get out there more.”

“Uh, I’m trying.” I said meekly, “It’s just hard for me to meet people.” How did this turn into me defending myself?

“Why? I mean, you’re a pretty cocky guy.”

“Not really. I’m pretty shy until you get to know me.”

“Well, you just gotta keep trying. But I do appreciate you telling me. That took balls. Most guys don’t have the balls to tell me, but you did.”

“Thank you.” I said, not sure if I should be happy or sad.

“Come on, let’s get you drunk.” she said. I guess I’d be happy that night.

***

The rejection didn’t really hit me until a few days later, when she updated her status to say how she was swooning over that other musician guy. It felt like I’d been punched in the gut. For the first time in my life, I hadn’t been good enough. I cried that whole night and was depressed the whole day.

“Nick, take me to Sunset Cliffs.”

“Baby steps, Raul. Baby steps.” Nick told me as we watched the sunset.

“Fuck baby steps. I’ve waited long enough, I should’ve gotten it right on the first try.”

“That may be, but no one ever does. You almost did though, look at how far you’ve come. Three months ago you couldn’t even talk to a girl [link Speechless]. Now look at you.”

“Rejected and hopeless?”

“A few months ago you weren’t even in a position to get rejected.”

“I guess.” I said as the last shimmer of sunlight skipped into the horizon, “Fuck this sunset. Let’s go to Hooters and see some titties.”

EPILOGUE: I didn’t see her until three weeks later and even then she only stopped by to pick something up from my mom. I always called and texted her, but she never had the time for me. So I just stopped calling. I still see her now and then, but it’s not the same. Whatever romantic feelings I had for her are gone, but she’ll always hold a special place in my heart. I had taken a big step in my life and she was a big part of it.

“I’m gonna tell her.”

“You should.” Nick said as he visually molested his vanilla ice cream cone.

“I will. You think she’ll like me back?”

“I don’t know.” he said as he bit off the top of his ice cream, “She seems very flirty, but that maybe that’s just how she is.”

“Oh.” I said, a bit disillusioned.

“But you should tell ‘er.” He said like he knew something. Had she told him something?

“Do you know something?” My heart sped up a bit.

“I don’t know anything you don’t.” He said with an even more devious smile.

“If you know something you should tell me.”

“I told you I kn–.”

“MOTHERFUCKER, I BOUGHT YOU ICE CREAM!”

“Your point?”

“I buy you ice cream, you flap your lips.”

“I’m no whore. Besides, I told you, I know nothing you don’t.” He was either fucking with me or trying to get me think she told him something so I would be more confident when I told her how I felt.

“Prude.”

***

We had moved from inside the house to the patio, she looked awesome. Even banal chit-chat was exciting.

“So can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.

“Yeah. Shoot.” Oh sweet baby jesus. This is it.

“Would you ever date a girl in a wheelchair?” My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.

“Well, I don’t know. She’d have to be able to do the work on the sex. ‘Cause, you know, I can’t.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I see your point.” I could see my window opening.

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?” She looked confused.

“Would you ever date a guy in a wheelchair?” It was wide open and there must’ve some desert winds because my whole body felt hot. Everything slowed down and what was only a short 1 minute exchange seemed like hours.

“Yeah, but…”

“But?”

“The sex would have to would have to work.”

“Yeah, I know.” I knew what I needed to ask. A simple, “How about me?” would do it. Whenever I’m under stress, my chest breaks out in hives and I get itchy. I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest and run away screaming. My brain told my heart to calm the fuck down, it wasn’t helping shit. The heart told the brain to go fuck itself and the penis politely told both of them to get their shit together. Amidst all the confusion, my mouth had no fucking idea what was going on. And just like that, the moment was gone. We started talking about other things and I didn’t hae the balls to broach the subject again.

I had done what I promised myself I wouldn’t do: Pussed out. But worst of all, I’d let myself down, It’s one thing to let other people down, you don’t know what they want or expect from you. I don’t like it, but it’s unavoidable sometimes. Letting myself down though… that’s unacceptable. I know what I’m capable of. So, when I don’t perform up to my expectations, I mentally berate myself. And that’s what I did for the rest of the night. I shut down and went inside my bubble. She talked and I responded, but I wasn’t there. I was in my head. My safe little bubble.

“You want to give her the doll?” asked Nick.

“It’s not a doll, it’s an action figure.”

“It’s Fry from futurama dancing in a disco costume.”

“Action figure.”

“Well, you bought it for her two weeks ago. Are you gonna give it to her tonight or wait ’til you make sure she won’t keep flaking on you?”

“No. I bought it for her because I like making people happy. I have no conditions on my gifts. I don’t care if I don’t see her again after tonight. That, and I don’t have anyone else to give the damn doll to. I don’t want to get stuck with it.”

“I thought it was an action figure?”

“Whatever. Drive, Freeman.”

I tried to be even headed and not get excited about seeing her. Getting excited almost ends with disappointment for me. But I couldn’t help it, no matter how hard I tried. It wasn’t even the fact that I liked her that had me excited, it was more that I could see myself getting better. For the first time in a long time, I was confident in myself.

“Raul, where am I going?” asked Nick.

“Uh… make a… left?”

“You have no idea do you?”

“I have some idea.”

“You’re lost aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” I said sheepishly. I was.

“I can’t believe you’re lost in your own neighborhood.”

“It’s dark! You can’t see any landmarks.”

“Uh-huh. What about all those times you got lost during the day?”

“Flukes.”

“You give horrible directions.”

“Do not.” I pouted and sulked as I looked for any indication of where to turn. “Oh, oh, turn left!”

“Left?”

“Left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“You better be right, or I’m not taking directions from you ever again.” He turned left, right onto her street.

“BAM, MOTHERFUCKER! BAM!”

“Fine, you live another day.”

10:30 – We pick her up and exchange hellos. There’s that awkward beginning of the conversation where you’re all trying to find something interesting to talk about Nick breaks the ice with a simple, “So what’s been going on with you?” I always overthink the simplest shit.

“So where do you want to go?” I asked her.

“I don’t know. Let’s just drive around. I just gotta be home by twelve.”

10:32 – “So what’s been going on with you?” asked Nick.

“Umm…” she thought about it for a second. “Oh, I kinda like this guy…”

“Oh yeah?” My heart sank.

“Yeah, he came into my store and I was ringing him up. He had really beautiful blue eyes…” Asshole. He’s probably a blue-eyed Nazi. “So I ring him up and he starts walking away, and all of the sudden, he comes back to me and goes, ‘So are you seeing anyone?’”

That’s it?! That’s all it fucking takes? Blue fucking eyes and that dumb line? All this time and all I needed were blue contact lenses?Fuck that guy.

“So I gave him my number and we went out. The thing about this guy, is that, I told him he has beautiful eyes, and he kind of just laughed it off. He didn’t compliment me once the whole night! I’m not asking for much, just throw me a bone once in a while, you know?” I took mental notes as Nick talked bad about the guy.

“And, “ she added, “he hasn’t made a move yet.”

“Why haven’t you made a move?” I asked. Sometimes I ask questions that I really shouldn’t be asking

“Well, fear of rejection. I don’t want to look like an ass.” This baffled me. Girls don’t get rejected, they smell too nice.

10:40 – “Oh, make a right here.” she said, “There’s a park right here we can hang out in.”

Now came the hard part, giving her the present. How is it hard? Well, normally, you’d just go, “Hey, I bought you a present.” Then give her the present. It’s no big deal, you are the cat’s pajamas. But I have to go, “Hey, Nick. Can you give her the thing?” And then watch awkwardly as tries to figure out what the thing is while wearing a look like I just asked him to calculate the distance from the earth to the sun in nipples.

“Oh, the thing.” He said. If I were her, I’d be reaching for my pepperspray. He finally took it out and gave it to her. Her face lit up like Hiroshima.

“This is so awesome.” she said, “And thoughtful. This is honestly one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Come here.” She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I blushed a littled.

10:45 – We’re sitting on the park bench and she’s smoking a cigarette. Nick gave us privacy by making excuses. I don’t remember much of that conversation. All I remember was the feeling of complete satisfaction I had with her.

10:47 – Nick comes back and, somehow, starts talking about what his dream girl is like. After he’s done describing his mythical perky breasted alcoholic nimphomaiac, Nikole asked me what my dream girl looks like.

“Well, she’s short and a brunette and she’s smoking a cigarette.” Incredibly cheesy? Yes. But it worked.

“Awww!” she gave me another kiss and hug. Putty in my hands, my dear readers. Putty in my hands.

We talked some more about trivial stuff like how to properly dispose of a body (you cut it up into tiny turd sized pieces and flush it down the toilet) for another hour.

12:03 – She looked at the time and asked us to take her home.

“Don’t forget your doll.” said Nick.

“Of course not.” she said with it in her hand. “I’ll never forget it.” she said as she got out. I smiled at her as I remembered why I liked her. She had a way of making me feel special.

She was supposed to come Friday. I got all dressed up and got my dad to get me on my chair. I planned to tell her I liked her. I’d never told any girl I liked her, why would I ever do that? I could get rejected. Hell, I probably would get rejected. And why would anyone ever subject themselves to that? The only thing worse than rejection is cancer. That, and Canada.

But that was going to change. I had to improve myself socially for my sake. For my sanity. There’s only so many lonely Friday nights I can take before I go on a homicidal rampage with an AK-47 while screaming, “WHY DON’T YOU LIKE ME?!?!?!”. It wears on you. You begin to wonder if there’s something wrong with you. So I was going to get better.

But it was 10:30 and she was supposed be there at 10.

“Hey, you coming?” I texted her. I paced frantically back and forth, I didn’t think she was coming. I wasn’t happy, I had gotten all excited and psyched for to tell her. I even had a whole speech planned out, but it was all for naught. It would have to be another time. Another LATER time. I hate later and I really hate when people say they’re coming and don’t. So I went back to bed and got back on the computer. Just like every other Friday night.

My phone rang, “Hey, I got pulled over. I don’t think I can make it, dude. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”

“Alright, it’s cool. We can watch the UFC fight. You okay, though?”

“Sure. Yeah, I’m really really sorry.”

I could forgive her for that. Getting pulled over is a legitimate excuse, I think. And I could wait one day. I could do that. My mind raced with thoughts of her that night. I could not wait until the next day.

***

“Hey, you wanna watch the UFC fight tonight?” She had told me she liked it, it’s not like I was inviting her to play Super Mario or anything.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be over after work.”

I called my uncle to ask him if I could order the fight at his house, got on my chair, washed my face (twice), brushed my teeth (thrice) and spritzed on my pimpin’ armany cologne. I hate cologne. It only comes out on super special occassions. Like going to the strip club. Then I started doing what I always do when I’m waiting. I paced. I paced in my room then in the kitchen then in living room then in front of the window. Not because I was looking for her to pull in the driveway, of course. I was looking at the nonexistant birds in the nonexistant trees.

I waited in my chair up to and through the whole UFC fight. I watched it with my dad waiting for my phone to ring. My mood went from giddy and excited to peeved and disillusioned.

I always give people the benefit of the doubt. I assume that that they’re good and trustworthy until they prove otherwise. She hadn’t done this before, but I don’t like being stood up twice in a row. And I don’t like being stood up and not getting an explanation. I made a conscious effort not to tolerate flakiness ever since the whole Pedro saga where he repeatedly stood me up and left me hanging for months at a time.

It was her second strike, so I wasn’t going to be the one to make contact. I wouldn’t ignore her calls or anything, but she had to be the one to call. Hopefully she cared enough to call because I still liked her.

***

“Hey, pimp. Roxanne told me to tell you that she’s really sorry about the other weekend. That her car broke down and she lost her cell phone and got pulled over.” said Nick.

“Uh… okay. I guess that’s forgivable. But why did she tell you and not me?”

“I don’t know, dude. I’m just relaying the message.”

“Okay, thanks dude.” That counted as contact in my mind. So I invited her out on Sunday. I hadn’t seen her in two weeks, but she’d never left my mind. Despite that, I was worried that I had built up an idealized image of her, so I decided that I was going to hold off on telling her how I felt. Because I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Wanna come over and play monopoly on Friday?” I texted her. We had talked about how no one ever wanted to play monopoly.

“Sure. I’ll be over after work. Around 10 pm.”

I looked forward to Friday all week. I thought about jokes and scenarios and thought up flowcharts based on those scenarios. I know, trying to map out conversations before they happen is completely ridiculous and stupid. But it made me feel secure and comfortable. I had a plan. I was in control and I knew what I was doing

Friday night rolled around and I waited for her next door, at my uncle’s. I wanted privacy from my nurses and my mom. Especially my mom. She thinks women are delicate flowers and should be treated as such. She’d be horrified to hear me talk the way I do.

10:15 – I paced back and forth, up and down the carpet for what seemed like hours. To say I was nervous is an understatement. I’d hung out with her before, but I didn’t like her then. It was the first time I was hanging out with when I liked her. I had to be my best, and my best wasn’t very good to begin with. So I had to be better than my best.

10:20 – “Hey there.” she said as she walked in. Game time. We made some small talk about her work (it still sucked), what I’d done during the week (jack shit) and why she worked so many hours (she liked the money).

“So you ready for some monopoly? I have a pimpin’ antique set.” Yes, I collect monopoly sets and brag about them. Fuck off.

“Yeah, but I warn you, I always get Boardwalk.”

“We’ll see.” Boardwalk and Parkplace are overrated. Sure the rent is a shitload, but buying the hotels will clean you out, and you’re fucked if you land on someone elses property. Plus, the odds of them landing on your hotels are one in twenty, as opposed to the three out of forty on every other color. The trick is to get the middle of the road ones. I didn’t tell her this, of course. I wanted to win. No one, not even her, would beat me at monopoly.

10:30 – We start playing and I land on the “Go to Jail” square on my first go around. I stayed in jail while she bought up all the property.

10:32 – I get out three turns later only roll a 12 and an 8, back in jail.

“I guess I’m just a bad boy.” I said in my best mock porno voice. I love making bad jokes.

“I guess you are.” she said laughing. We keep rolling.

10:35 – Her phone rings, it was a text. “It’s one of my guy friends.” she said, answering the question I was about ask, “He wants to be with me.”

“Oh.” My heart sank. What an asshole, trying to compete with me, I hate him. He probably has the clap. And herpes. Asshole. “So what did you say?”

“I said no.” Poor guy. “He has a girlfriend, so I don’t want to. He wants me on the side, but that’s kind of shitty. Especially since I know her” Yup, asshole.

10:47 – She blows my nose.

10:50 – Again.

10:53 – And again. “You just like blowing me don’t you?” This line works better on her than Nick. She laughs, “Oh yeah, I love it!” I can flirt, who knew?

11:00 – The nurse shows her how to use the suction machine on my mouth. There is a good joke in here somewhere.

11:04 – She blows my nose and, armed with her newfound knowledge, asks, “Do you want me to suck you?” I look at her. There’s a confused look on her face until she realizes what she said. She turns period blood red and she starts laughing hysterical into my shoulder . This is the closest I’ve gotten to a sexual proposition and she’s laughing at the thought of it. I consider sepoku.

11:07 – I have all the red properties, I start putting hotels in. She’s about to pass through murderers row, baby!

“Don’t worry.” she says, “I won’t land on them.”

“You better hope you don’t.” A 10, 8 or 11 will do it.

11:08 – It’s a ten!

“Hahahahaha! Pay up, baby!” If I could fist pump, I would’ve.

“Whatever, I’ll rebound.” she said giving me $400.

“You won’t survive another.”

11:15 – She lands again and doesn’t have the money to cover it.

“How about… $200 and Water Works?” she holds both up expectantly.

“Hahahaha… no. $200 and Parkplace.” I counter.

“Never. $200 and this green one.”

I ponder it. Now, I’m new at this whole girl thing thing, but I’m pretty sure my normal monopoly strategy of raping and pillaging wasn’t very conductive to wooing her. “Okay, fine. But only because I’m nice.”

“You are very nice.” she grinned

“But I won’t be nice next time.”

11:25 – She’s dead broke and coming up on my side of the board. Well, at this point I own most of the board, but still.

“Not a 5, 7 or 8.” she prayed out loud. Snake eyes. “Yes!”

“Not so fast,” I said, “You rolled doubles, go again.” I had an idea of what to ask for should she land.

“Okay…” she counted the squares to my hotels, “Not a 3, 5 or 6.”

“Not gonna work this time…”

“Oh, hush.” she shaked the dice thoroughly in her hands. It’s a 5. “Alright, what do you want?” I knew what I wanted, but I wasn’t sure if

“I’ll take… your green one and…” I paused, my heart started pounding. This was gonna be the ballsiest thing I’d ever done or said. But I’d promised myself that I would change, so here it went, “…aaaaannnndddda kiss?” There it was, for better or worse. I couldn’t say I didn’t try.

“A kiss?!”

“Yep.”

“You’re gonna whore me out for monopoly money?” She said with a sly smle. She made it sound so bad.

I nodded.

“Hahahaha.Alright.” She got up and walked towards me. This was it. My first kiss. After 19 years it was finally coming and I did it all by my self. “Muuuuuuuaaa.” On the cheek. God-fucking-dammit. My grandma kisses me on the cheek. It doesn’t count. I didn’t tell her though. My ballsy moves ammo had been used up for the night.

11:45 – She looks at the time, “Alright, I think you beat me. You want to count it up?”

I had a huge pile of money and about 10 properties. She had $5 and 1 property. “Eh, let’s call it a tie.”

“Hahaha, alright. It’s a tie” She said as she packed up the set. “You want me to carry this back next door?”

“Yeah, please. After you.”

“You just want to look at my ass!” she quipped as she walked away.

I smiled, “Well, of course!” I walked her to the door.

“I had a great time tonight. It was nice to relax after work.”

“Hey, any time.”

I was proud of my self. I could interact with girls now. They’re people. People I want to stick my penis in. But people nonetheless. However, with this girl, it was more than that. I wanted her to be my girlfriend.