I Don’t Know, Can You?

He’s cute.

I would have gone out with him.  Really.

So, after our last dance that night, he says, “So, is it okay if I call you?”

*…pause…* I’m trying to digest the words, trying to understand if he’s asking for my number or just throwing me a line.  The music is loud, pounding, drowning everything around me.

I lean closer to him, “What?” I asked.

He grins.  “I said, I’d like to call you, can I get your number?”

The answer would have been so freakin’, darned, gosh-diggity easy.  Seven little digits I’ve memorized by heart.  Cute guy. Seemed kind of fun. I would have dated him.

Except, I have a mind-mouth coordination problem, and the words that come out of my mouth were: “I don’t know, can you?”

The moment the words come out of my mouth, I am utterly, disgustingly embarrassed.  WTF.  In my sheer embarrassment, I spin around and walk towards @Sigh and Eon.  I chance one glance over my shoulder and the poor guy is walking away sorta scratching his head.

Yeah, me too.

Can I please just get better at this dating game now?

…and someone somewhere is laughing, “I don’t know, can you?”