Oh, How the Tables Have Turned
The elevator bell dings as we reach my apartment on the sixth floor. I lead him towards my front door, hoping and praying that Ben is fast asleep. But Ben is not asleep, he is very much awake and standing in the kitchen, waiting for me to come home.
“Hey Rebecca”, Ben says, before eyeing the tall and handsome army grunt behind me with surprise.
After closing and locking the door behind himself, my handsome stranger steps beside me. Both men eye each other for a few seconds as the silence becomes deafeningly loud. They look at me awkwardly, awaiting an introduction.
For the love of God, I cannot remember this handsome army grunt’s name! Somehow, I stay calm. My calmness likely has to do with the blessed whiskey sour I ordered at the bar half an hour ago. Without it I would be a rambling and embarrassed mess right about now. Thanks to liquid courage I do not stand there fumbling awkwardly and admit I forgot his name, instead, I turn the tables.
I smile as kindly and innocently as I possibly can, despite having complete mischievous intentions. Quickly, I jokingly and lightly say, “Well, don’t be rude or shy guys, go ahead introduce yourselves… unless you both want to stand here awkwardly all night”. Immediately after this I remove my jacket, placing it on a coat hanger in the closet as my roommate, Ben, and my temporary handsome army grunt introduce themselves to each other in the kitchen. Phew. I avoided that mess.
Wait, what did he say his name was?
We proceed into my bedroom, where I realize, names really don’t matter.