March 11, 2013 by Manny Wordsmith
It was hardly a misstep when she walked in.
“You’re stepping on my shoe. Can you watch where you’re walking?”
I thought I was being careful, but it’s obvious from the quote above I wasn’t.
The girl was soft-porn cute. Innocent until proven slutty. A basement of heart with a house of horniness firmly erected, but I was stuck. Not only on her foot as she stared angrily at my blue and black plaid shirt, but stuck to her eyes, gleaming with green tinted uncertainties.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was too busy watching you, to see your feet, my apologizes.”
She gave me the finger and threw out my apology like yesterday’s trash. I lifted my foot to let her go, and I was elated, stuck on her urgency to insult me. It was love at first plight.
“I understand that I might have interrupted your stride, but if you could stop for a couple more seconds, it’ll be worth it.”
I felt like a drug dealer, or a pimp, or a desperate salesman peddling vacuums to a girl with wood floors. I was out of my league and out matched by her breathy sighs and intense eye-rolling. She didn’t want anything to do with me. Her body language was a fight scene and mine was just the chicken dance.
“What makes you think I want to talk? You smudged my favorite pump! AND, I’m already late for work. What can you, some guy with big feet and horrible balance, have to offer?”
I pulled out a $25 AMC Gift Card I received from my older brother this past Christmas. It glistened with red and black reverence, drawing the young woman’s eyes.
“Wow, a movie? I’m not sure, I’m so busy. But the offer is very alluring. Which one,” she asked.
“‘Life of Pi’, but I’ll settle for ‘Safe Haven’,” I said.
“I love Nicolas Sparks!”
Her whole face lit up like a lightsaber, but uncertainty sat behind her emerald stones.
“I have a lot going on and i just met you and all. And my shoe, my shoe is so damaged and this offer is so sudden, I’m not sure if I can go with you.”
“What if it’s on like a Thursday afternoon, away from any of those usual dating hang-ups?”
“Will you throw in some Snowcaps and a hot dog?”
“Yes,” I agreed, and the not-so-date was set.
We met at the theater two days later. She was in black yoga pants with the words “LOVE PINK” written in pink on her ass. Her hair was up and scattered on her face like Lindsey Lohan’s freckles.
“I love going to see movies in my comfy clothes,” she said, right before she zipped up her black and pink “LOVE PINK” hoodie, hiding her goodies below like toys in a cereal box.
I followed her to theater #1, hoping to absorb as much of her yoga pants ass before it was smashed against a creaking faux red cotton chair. She caught me as we walked up the stairs to our seats and reminded me how happy she was to be there.
“You are not getting laid, so stop staring at my ass, dickless.”
She spoke with the elegance of a sailor, or a Manhattan street merchant, but I felt her love piercing my chest like hot rusty coat hanger. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt since the first time I heard Liza Minnelli or watched the show “Girls”.
“This feels like love,” I thought as I nervously passed her the Snowcaps and hot dog I promised. But the $15 worth of treats wasn’t enough. Minutes later, she rummaged through her giant Coach purse, looking for a half-eaten chicken panini and Black Gulaman Grass Jelly Drink.
“Whole Foods has the best shit,” she claimed. “Their organic deli is cray.”
She consumed her leftovers faster than her originals and pasted the air with a roaring burp. It was like having the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sing opera. Words can’t even explain how the primitive sounds touched me.
When the film ended, we exited the theater and stood in the doorway, ready to express our true love when her boyfriend came rolling up.
He poked his head out of the driver’s side of his all white BMW SUV and said, “Thanks for taking my girl out. When she asked me I was like, ‘Fuck seeing that pussy movie’. You’re a real nice guy.”
The girl hopped in the car in a quick breeze, but not before saying her sweet good byes.
“That popcorn was stale and you talk too much.”
It was more magical than sitting on wand from Ollivander’s.