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?”