to stick around and listen to a bunch of shit I don’t know about or care about.”
“Understandable,” Paul said. “You’ve got your own job to worry about.”
“Right?” I said. “I wish he could see that.”
“Maybe he’s not the right one,” Paul offered.
“You think so?” I asked. I looked at the digital display on the radio. I’d been on the same ramp for 12 minutes.
“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” Paul quickly stammered.
“No,” I said. “You’re fine. I don’t mean to always dump my problems on you.”
“It’s okay,” he said weakly.
“We’ve been having all kinds problems,” I said. “You don’t even know.”
“Sounds rough,” Paul said.
“I don’t know how comfortable you are with this sort of thing. Maybe this is TMI,” I warned. “We’re having some issues in the bedroom.”
“Oh?” Paul said. He seemed a little startled.
“He spends the entire time thinking of himself. It’s always planned and perfect. He’s so high strung. Like, he can’t give in to the moment,” I said. “Do you know what I mean?”
“Truthfully,” Paul said, chuckling quietly. “Not really.”
“You’ve had girlfriends, though,” I said.
“Yes, but things never got… there,” he said.
“Wait, what?” I questioned.
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to lay it all on you,” he said.
“No, tell me,” I said curiously. “What happened?”
“With which one?” Paul asked.
“Well,” I said. “I only know about two.”
“Right,” he confirmed. “But which one of those two do you want to know about?”
“Wait,” I said. “You’ve only had two girlfriends, like, ever?”
“That is correct,” Paul said. I could hear him blushing through the receiver.
“So, you’re saying you had bad sexual experiences with them?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Not at all. I’m saying I had no sexual experiences with them.”
If I had been driving I probably would have had to pull over. Sitting in my car on the same on-ramp for twenty minutes does not count as driving.
“Wow,” I said. “Really?” I nearly covered my mouth as I realized how insulting I sounded.
“Yeah,” Paul said feebly. “But it’s not a big deal. It’ll happen someday, I guess.”
“Paul, you’d be so good!” I started giggling as I realized what I had said. “I mean as a boyfriend!” I added.
“Thanks,” he said. He didn’t seem as amused as I was.
“Really, I mean it,” I assured. “You seem like you’d be so caring.”
“Thanks,” he said again. “I guess I’d like to think so.” Paul sounded restrained, as if he were fighting to keep himself composed.
“You know what? I’m going to come over tonight,” I stated. “You said you’re not busy, right?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “You know you can come over whenever.”
“Great,” I said joyfully. “Whenever I get off of this damn ramp I’ll be there. Thirty minutes?”
“Sounds fine,” he said. “See you soon.”
I got to Paul’s apartment ten minutes later than I had intended to. Our plans were informal, so I didn’t feel particularly rushed.
The smell of mothballs fumigated into my sinuses, nearly choking me. Paul didn’t live in the nicest complex. His place was one hundred dollars less than mine but only half as inviting. He saw the discount worthy of whatever headache or nightmarish wallpaper he was subjected to.
He answered the door as I swung my arm back for the third knock.
“Hey,” I said. “Why does it smell weird out there?”
“Oh,” he said, sniffing at the air in the hall. “I think they’re doing carpet cleaning.”
“Hopefully that’s the smell they’re cleaning out,” I said. “I can’t imagine that nasty odor covering up something worse.”
“At least it’s out there,” he noted, inviting me in.
“Your scruff looks good,” I observed.
“Unintentional, but thanks,” he said quietly as he stroked his stubbly chin.
I set my bag down
“Understandable,” Paul said. “You’ve got your own job to worry about.”
“Right?” I said. “I wish he could see that.”
“Maybe he’s not the right one,” Paul offered.
“You think so?” I asked. I looked at the digital display on the radio. I’d been on the same ramp for 12 minutes.
“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” Paul quickly stammered.
“No,” I said. “You’re fine. I don’t mean to always dump my problems on you.”
“It’s okay,” he said weakly.
“We’ve been having all kinds problems,” I said. “You don’t even know.”
“Sounds rough,” Paul said.
“I don’t know how comfortable you are with this sort of thing. Maybe this is TMI,” I warned. “We’re having some issues in the bedroom.”
“Oh?” Paul said. He seemed a little startled.
“He spends the entire time thinking of himself. It’s always planned and perfect. He’s so high strung. Like, he can’t give in to the moment,” I said. “Do you know what I mean?”
“Truthfully,” Paul said, chuckling quietly. “Not really.”
“You’ve had girlfriends, though,” I said.
“Yes, but things never got… there,” he said.
“Wait, what?” I questioned.
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to lay it all on you,” he said.
“No, tell me,” I said curiously. “What happened?”
“With which one?” Paul asked.
“Well,” I said. “I only know about two.”
“Right,” he confirmed. “But which one of those two do you want to know about?”
“Wait,” I said. “You’ve only had two girlfriends, like, ever?”
“That is correct,” Paul said. I could hear him blushing through the receiver.
“So, you’re saying you had bad sexual experiences with them?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Not at all. I’m saying I had no sexual experiences with them.”
If I had been driving I probably would have had to pull over. Sitting in my car on the same on-ramp for twenty minutes does not count as driving.
“Wow,” I said. “Really?” I nearly covered my mouth as I realized how insulting I sounded.
“Yeah,” Paul said feebly. “But it’s not a big deal. It’ll happen someday, I guess.”
“Paul, you’d be so good!” I started giggling as I realized what I had said. “I mean as a boyfriend!” I added.
“Thanks,” he said. He didn’t seem as amused as I was.
“Really, I mean it,” I assured. “You seem like you’d be so caring.”
“Thanks,” he said again. “I guess I’d like to think so.” Paul sounded restrained, as if he were fighting to keep himself composed.
“You know what? I’m going to come over tonight,” I stated. “You said you’re not busy, right?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “You know you can come over whenever.”
“Great,” I said joyfully. “Whenever I get off of this damn ramp I’ll be there. Thirty minutes?”
“Sounds fine,” he said. “See you soon.”
I got to Paul’s apartment ten minutes later than I had intended to. Our plans were informal, so I didn’t feel particularly rushed.
The smell of mothballs fumigated into my sinuses, nearly choking me. Paul didn’t live in the nicest complex. His place was one hundred dollars less than mine but only half as inviting. He saw the discount worthy of whatever headache or nightmarish wallpaper he was subjected to.
He answered the door as I swung my arm back for the third knock.
“Hey,” I said. “Why does it smell weird out there?”
“Oh,” he said, sniffing at the air in the hall. “I think they’re doing carpet cleaning.”
“Hopefully that’s the smell they’re cleaning out,” I said. “I can’t imagine that nasty odor covering up something worse.”
“At least it’s out there,” he noted, inviting me in.
“Your scruff looks good,” I observed.
“Unintentional, but thanks,” he said quietly as he stroked his stubbly chin.
I set my bag down
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