About A Girl: A Shot – October 8, 2009

[Author's Note: Names and dates have been changed. Interactions have been reconstructed from memory, so some small details may not be 100% correct. However, the events are faithfully reconstructed. Hope you enjoy.]

I met Roxanne through my mom. Yeah, I feel pathetic even typing that. She’s the daughter of one her friends. My mom said she wanted to meet me. All I had to hear was, “Girl, twenty years old” before I said yes.

“Tell her she can come by Friday, if she wants,” I said. Nick was working as my pseudo-nurse that night, so I figured that he could take us out if she wanted to.

“Well, I think she works the whole day, but I’ll tell her.” That was good enough. I’d been trying to meet new people, to build myself a social life. I was tired of not having friends. I mean, I had friends. Nick and Rodrigo, but Rodrigo was abroad in London. He wasn’t moving back anytime soon. And ever since the tit incident, I’d promised myself to do better with girls. The only way to do that was to put myself in those situations as often as possible. Here was a chance to do that and I wasn’t about to let it slip away.

Truthfully though, I didn’t think she would show. A twenty year old girl has better things to do on a Friday night than to meet her mom’s girlfriend’s son. So I started planning other things when I didn’t get confirmation that she was coming. Nick and I planned to go out, but that fell through when my brother wanted the van. So I just took a shower, put on boxers and a shirt, and surfed the internet in bed while Nick watched TV.

I don’t like being in bed when meeting new people, especially girls. It gives off the wrong impression. “Here’s this sedentary cripple, look at him. He’s so weak and fragile.” It’s the exact image I try to avoid.

So I wasn’t feeling very confident when I looked over my computer screen to see my mom walk in with a cute, petite, brunette girl behind her. She gave off a party girl vibe. Not “sorority party girl”, but a “my liver has taken more of a beating than Tina Turner” girl.

“Raul, this is Roxanne. Roxanne this is Raul and this is Nick.” said mom.

“Hi” I said sheepishly.

“Hey!”

“So let me get a chair for you.” mom pulled out a chair and left the room to talk with Roxanne’s mom.

“Hey dude, I’m really hungry. I’m gonna go eat something real quick. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me, alright?” Nick asked. Awesome, he was leaving me to entertain a girl I’d never met. I foresaw awkwardness and communication problems.

“Alright.” He left the room and there was that awkward silence between the time when you’re first introduced to someone and one of you thinks of something interesting to say. The funny thing is, no matter how much you think about it, it’s never that interesting.

“So… how are you?”

“I’m good, just tired from work, man.”

“Where do you work?”

“‘Xcuse me?” I need some kind of translator. Or one of those voice maskers that turns my voice into a sexy manly announcer voice.

“Where do you work?” I said it again, this time enunciating a little more, but not enough to SOUND like I was enunciating.

“Where do I work?” Success!

“Yeah.”

“I work at Guitar Center..”

“Oh, sweet. My friend loves it there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he drags me there to buy himself drumsticks and play with all the expensive toys.”

“Sorry, I didn’t get that last part.” I repeated myself again. It’s not that I mind repeating myself, it’s just that it makes for uncomfortable moments. And those are never fun. It went on like that for a while. I wasn’t doing bad, just having trouble communicating.

“Hey man, you doing okay?” Nick poked his head in.

“Yeah.” I wanted him to stay so things would go smoother, “You know, you can eat in here if you want.”

“Oh, okay. Lemme go get my food.” The whole dynamic changed as soon as he sat down. He was able to translate anything she didn’t get and fill in lulls in our conversation with his crass humor. I got more comfortable as she got more comfortable.

“I love your dog!” She said as she pet my big goofy golden.

“Thanks.”

“I have three dogs.” she looked up still petting his head, “Puff, Smoke and Mary Jane.” Nick and I chuckled.

“That’s not obvious at all, huh?” I asked, “Does your mom know what they stand for?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“So I take it you’re not exactly a church girl, huh?” Nick interjected.

She grinned, “No, not really. I went to a ghetto school, so everyone was drinking and smoking by 8th grade.”

“I’ve always wanted to try weed. I even called a medical marijuana clinic, but I pussed out.” That was the most relevant thing I had to say on the subject.
“Can you smoke?” she asked.

“Yeah.” It’s probably not very good for my lungs, but I’m not exactly known for my good choices. Besides, if all the cool kids are doing it…

“So what are you doing on Sunday? Me and Raul are going out to… somewhere. You wanna go?”

“Well, I work on Sunday.”

“What time do you get off? I don’t get here ’til 7, so…”

“Oh, that’s perfect. I get off at 7. Can you guys pick me up?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I can also come tomorrow after work and bring a movie if you want, Raul,” Roxanne said. “Do you mind me coming at 10pm, or do you go to bed early?”

“No. Not at all. I’m a night owl, so yeah, anytime is cool.” It’s not like I had an awesome kegger to go to.

“Cool. We’ll chill.”

Our moms walked in, “Alright, Roxanne. We’ve gotta go. I have to get up early tomorrow.” It was like the 2 minute warning. The five of us engaged in banal chit-chat. My mom talked about me and Roxanne’s mom talked about her. They made fun of us more than bragged about us. At one point, I looked over at Roxanne standing behind her mom trying to silently get my attention. She then made the universal hand sign for weed, and mouthed, “You want some?” I gave a half-assed laugh and shyly looked away.

“Alright, now we have to go for real.” said her mom glancing at her watch .

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” I looked over at Roxanne.

“Yeah, for sure.” They left the room and my mom walked them to the door.

“Hey,” Nick looked over to me, “I’m proud of you.”

“Oh… uh… why?” I’ve never been one to take compliments well.

“What do you mean why? Look at where you were two months ago, dude. You couldn’t put together a coherent thought in front of two girls. You were a nervous wreck. And now look at you, you get another chance and you do a thousand times better. You made her comfortable and you’re hanging out with her all weekend. You do anything you truly set your mind to. And it’s amazing seeing you do it.”

I blushed a little, “You give me too much credit.”

“You give yourself too little.”

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