Skipping in public

Published August 22, 2012 by crazyinpink

Yesterday, I had an after-work thing with Butter.  It was quite unexpected.  It wasn’t a date or anything but I was so giddy afterwards that I actually skipped for a bit.  In public. 

I don’t know what came over me but on a random trip to the kitchen, I stopped by Butter’s desk and mentioned that I had a few hours to kill after work.  I asked him if he was free to go for a coffee or something.  A momentary flicker of surprise crossed his face.  He quickly said yes and invited me to come round to his since he lives near work.  It was at this point that I realised what I had said.

Now, back in my Jam phase, I used to agonise for hours over how to casually suggest a casual cup of coffee with him.  Casually, of course. I spent 9 to 5 planning what to say, practising how I was going to say it.  I never worked up the nerve to actually do it.  When I eventually asked by text, I got a polite brush off.

Yet, there I was.  Only days after I stayed late at work on Friday afternoon just to keep Butter company as he waited for a package to be delivered.  I loitered and chatted for more than half an hour after everyone else had escaped to the pub.  It was great to be on our own and not be constantly interrupted. Somewhere in the midst of our conversation he gave me his phone number.

Yesterday afternoon passed in a state of anticipation.  I was simultaneously impressed by my own spontaneity, excited about hanging out with him away from the office and anxious about how awkward it could be to go to his house.  We would have to walk there with Jam to the house where they both live. Was it going to be just the two of us? Or would we be in a strange ‘friendzone’ trio?

In reality, I needn’t have worried.  At the last minute, a technical issue meant most of my team had to stay late to rectify it. That meant Jam.  So, Butter and I set off together.  We had a pleasant walk out of work, chatting away.  I pointed out a milkshake place I had been to a few weeks ago with a nearby gym that had a balcony.  It had proved quite hilarious to sit and drink milkshakes while watching poor souls lunge and squat just across the street.  He suggested we go there. 

I went on ahead as he popped into his house, literally a stone’s throw from said milkshake place. He, for some inexplicable reason, got changed.  We sat for over an hour talking.  It was really nice and really easy. There were a few quiet moments, mainly when we were both too interested in our milkshakes but it didn’t feel awkward.  It was great.  When we parted, I had to go to a friend’s, he was going to football, I contemplated hugging him.  I didn’t, a huge group of people on their way to a gig came at us at that precise moment. 

I walked slowly back to my car.  I was grinning to myself and had that giddy feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t a date but it was the closest I’ve had in a while. Caught up in my own head, I forgot myself and skipped a few paces. My phone beeped. Still, grinning I checked it, assuming it was my friend I had been texting earlier.

It was a tweet from my Fairy Godmother. Thanking me for covering her shift in work and saying I was such an awesome friend.

Tiny bubbles of guilt fizzed in my giddiness. I haven’t spoken to her about this whole thing yet. Nothing had happened between Butter and I. But I still felt guilty.  I had asked him on a pre-date. Surely that’s a violation of the code of sisterhood. She told me a week ago that she was over him. She still has no idea of the feelings I’ve realised I have. I’m seeing her on Friday and asked if we could meet up before the scheduled event (a treasure hunt) to catch-up.  I have to tell her how I feel. Nothing can happen until I do. Nothing might happen anyway. I just have a feeling… Our paths haven’t crossed much in work today but I caught him glancing at me repeatedly while talking to someone a few desks away. Daydreaming early, I imagined how our goodbye might have been if I had just hugged him.

The giddiness is back. I just need it to de-carbonise.  

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