I invited her to watch the Bachelor with me.
She came to the back entrance (my kitchen) with the pizza in her hands. I opened the door, took the pizza from her, while she unlaced her shoes and kicked them off her feet.
“Aw! Look!” I said pointing at the mess on my white tile floor.
“Sorry!” She said, slightly annoyed that I was making a big deal out of it.
Realizing my true shitty colors were showing, I replied, “I’m just joking. Thanks for getting the pizza.” I called the order in and didn’t even think to give my credit card over the line. Whatever. I paid for our meals when we went out on Sunday. Fair is fair. It’s 2015.
We got stoned and watched the show. I kept trying to make jokes about how shitty it is, but secretly wanted to lay back and just listen to what Chris Soules had to say. When it finished we made out. I don’t know how I managed that. I had done almost everything wrong.
But we made out like teenagers, for an hour or two.
“I really want to sleep with you… but I can’t.”
“That’s ok. I like being teased.” Ugh. I say really gross things, sometimes.
At the end of our make out session I looked her in the eyes and said, “Wow. Just a bunch of dry humping.”