I was pursuing Rebecca’s Facebook. I caught wind that she was going to a film premiere of some kind that weekend. I was ecstatic about this. I thought about telling Rebecca I was going, but then I thought it would be more interesting if I made it a surprise. Besides, there was one hurdle I’d have to overcome. I didn’t want another trip from my mother so I had to borrow the car. I think to get the wheels for the evening, I’d have to have a similar approach to The Temptations: Ain’t Too Proud to Beg.

Of course, that would have to be Plan X. I’d merely approach Mom, and I asked her: “Mom, can I borrow the car Saturday night? Rebecca’s having a premiere, and I really want to see her.”

The conversation ended up being about a sixth of the length I expected as Mom simply told me: “If you want to see Rebecca, you can borrow the car.” This was the second time a woman surprised me, but this time I was quite pleased.

Saturday night may be alright for fighting, but this Saturday was for loving. Normally to look as good as I do, little effort was required, but this was for Rebecca so there was no half-assing this one. By the time I was done sprucing myself up, I looked so pretty I could kiss myself. Hot damn!

I was on the road. It was raining. And one thing was evident. I couldn’t see a damn thing. I was a notorious lead foot, but this was enough to make me reconsider taking the foot off the gas a bit. But driving slowly means little when you can’t see a thing. This wasn’t the first time I had to drive under adverse conditions. I’ve flown planes in pretty nasty fog before. Problem is deer and pedestrians don’t run out in front of airplanes at 40,000 thousand feet. Preferring to be safe rather than sorry, I decided to pull over and clean off the windshield.

That’s the thing about needing to clean one’s windshields. Since I couldn’t see where I was going, that also meant I couldn’t see where I was pulling over. So I may have driven into a ditch. I don’t mind admitting I blurted out a certain four-letter expletive when I drove into the ditch. Which one? I’ll give you a hint: I said it, but I’m glad I didn’t do it.

So many thoughts went through my mind. My spotless driving record had been tarnished. Heaven knows how much repairs would cost. Last, and certainly not least, Mom was going to kill me. I don’t mean she would ground me or punish me. She would in fact murder me. I’m pretty sure that wrecking the car is grounds for justifiable homicide in this state.

I tried to escape the ditch. But that car was not budging. I couldn’t go forward. I couldn’t back out. I decided to bite the bullet and talk to the guy who owned the house I was at. He was actually generous toward me when I explained the situation. We tried to figure out a way to get me out of there, but there was no other option… I had to call my mom and get a tow.

I thought she’d go nuclear on me, but she was more worried that I was okay, and grateful that I wasn’t hurt. I could tell from her voice that she was upset by what happened. I had to wait for the tow to show up – it took 45 of the slowest, most painstaking minutes of my life. I really wish I had mastered that time accelerator I had been working on. Eventually, the tow came – along with the police… and reporters… and the National Guard… and the boy scouts… Okay, it was just the tow and the police. But it sure as hell felt like the entire world was showing up to admire my huge mistake.

I told the cop not just what happened but why it happened. I told him that I had gone on this foolish voyage out of the hopes of seeing my lady love. The cop asked me, “So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m just gonna go home. The movie’s already started so there’s not much to do.”

“I still think you should go see her.”

He had a pretty good point. So what if I didn’t get to see some movie? I’d at least get to see Rebecca. Besides, nothing really happens in the first… 45 minutes of a movie, right? (Good lord, was I really gonna be that late for the movie?) With new determination, I dusted myself off, picked myself up and drove out to that theater!

I arrived at the theater, anxiously awaiting to see my darling Rebecca. I walked up to the theater… and it was locked. Door number 1 was locked. Door number 2 was locked. Door number 3 was locked. Take a wild guess what state door number 4 was in. I wanted to see Rebecca so badly, I tried every alternative imaginable. The back door was locked. There were no windows to climb through. There was no chimney to climb down like Santa Claus. No mail slot or doggie door to sneak through. And try as I might, there was no way I was going to achieve an ethereal state. Long story, I was NOT getting into that theater.

I drove way too far, and went through too much grief to just turn around and go home now. Good news, there was a pub nearby. Bad news, I had dinner already and I wasn’t old enough to drink. I had a rough enough night that I decided to treat myself to a little cheesecake. Besides, when you muscles on top of muscles like I do, a little cheesecake won’t undo that. Not only that, but I had to kill a little time before that movie ended out of hopes that I could catch Rebecca after the movie was over.

After the movie was FINALLY over, I was waiting outside that theater. Everyone was pouring out. I must have looked weird. Everyone else was trying to get out, I was the only fool trying to get in! Lots and lots of people were coming out. It was a whole mass of people. One problem: Out of this entire mass of people, not a single one of them was Rebecca. I couldn’t figure it out. Eventually, everyone poured out, and I was left standing alone, save a few theater attendants. One of the attendants spotted me, “Excuse me, you do know the movie’s over, right?”

Yeah, I knew…

I spent the next couple of days feeling sorry about myself for the matter. It’s like making it to the final boss of Contra and then dying on your last life. Sorry people, I will not use that 30 lives code! I decided to finally talk to Rebecca about this. Sadly, it was only over Instant Messaging, so use your imagination:

“Hey, where were you the other night? I really wanted to see you at the premier?”

“Oh, I was out of town on a shoot.”

Out of town.

Out of town?

Out of town!

Out [expletive deleted] town!!!

If I had to summarize my reaction to that news in one, single word, that word would be: aufdshtahdsfhkjdtfyweuhfjbhfuyewqutcuvyxduewihagsdierwjkeyrxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsjdfkahsfiyasrnerwqjfkajkauduaidafeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedfnsdkflkasuoieuqwoirfrtfhyrkgtfbn etwsghj,my6thng b45eygcf43re8ufdixvchyjgrh4idfuhyrekijushzcxjkdn4yuzxcjefekdmsero34jewldsfdoisuhexzkjfdhnwaekjjkfjsdifuisdhfkjkljroiuewry43uaufdshtahdsfhkjdtfyweuhfjbhfuyewqutcuvyxduewihagsdierwjkeyrxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsjdfkahsfiyasrnerwqjfkajkauduaidafeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedfnsdkflkasuoieuqwoirfrtfhyrkgtfbnetwsghj,my6thng45eygcf43re8ufdixvchyjgrh4idfuhyrekijushzcxjkdn4yuzxcjefekdmsero34jewldsfdoisuhexzkjfdhnwaekjjkfjsdifuisdhfkjkljroiuewry43u84uewirj……

(By the by, if you can actually spell that in Scrabble, I’ll let you win.)

I told her about my bad experience and the hell I went through trying to see her. I didn’t want her to think I was a menace to the road so I just vaguely told her I had an accident… I forgot the bone-crushing implications of a statement like that.

“Are you okay?’

“Yes, I’m okay – just a bruised ego.” I also told her how disappointed I was that I wanted to see her.

“Well, I’m hosting a party at my place soon. You want to come?”

My ego just got a lot better. Actually, my ego may have been a little too healthy. I may have had to sit cross-legged to hide how well my ego felt.

Okay, meeting with Rebecca, take two!

When I got to her place, I was excited to see Rebecca. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people ahead of me. There weren’t a lot of people my age. Since Rebecca was in college, so were most of her friends. Then again I was also the only person there who could sing a fugue by himself so that was something I had over them.

I tried to strike up a conversation with some of her friends while waiting for Rebecca. I was talking to one of her friends, “So what are some of your favorite shows?”

“I like to watch The Voice…”

“No offense, but I consider that show a crock. First off, any show called The Voice should be about Alan Rickman. Secondly, I tried out for that show. Despite my golden throat and perfect pitch, I didn’t make it!”

I thought being in a new crowd with some world experience might get me some different reactions, but instead I got the same dead-eyed reactions from my peers at school. The next few years were going to cold and harsh until I graduated college.

Luckily, I did finally get to talk to Rebecca.

“Hey Bobby, are you feeling okay after your accident?” I didn’t let anyone outside my family call me Bobby. For Rebecca, I’d make an exception.

“Yeah, I’m resilient. I remember Brock Lesnar broke my arm, but I was in tip-top shape after a week.” Rebecca laughed at this. She must have a morbid sense of humor. “So what have you been up to?”

“Well, I was cast in A Streetcar Named Desire.” You mean I didn’t get the part? And they didn’t even tell me? And I wouldn’t be getting to work with Rebecca? Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

“So you want to dance?”

It was like she read my mind. I don’t think I have to clarify that my answer was in the affirmative. It would give me a chance to show off my expertise ballroom dancing moves. I picked up a few tango moves during my time in the Orient – where the Tango originated. Sadly, nobody was there to throw a rose into my mouth. That wasn’t some bucket list fantasy of mine as I’ve done it several times, but I wanted to do it with Rebecca. Sadly, she didn’t feel the same way.

“Is this your first time dancing with a girl?”

I took particular umbrage to this statement! Then again, I couldn’t admit the truth to her. After all, would you tell the woman you were trying to court about the many women who came before her? I reached a fair medium: “I’ve done this before!”

“I’m just asking because you’re moving kind of awkwardly.” I sneered at this. Hopefully she didn’t see this. “No, I think it’s cute. You’re so adorably awkward, but you’re still trying, and I think that’s sweet.” I wonder what else she considers a compliment – telling a guy his microscopic penis is cute?

Things slowed down a bit – for the better. In the thick of all the party music that was playing “You Are So Beautiful” was snuck into the mix. Rebecca and I stood there with our hands around each other’s’ hips. We were mouthing the lyrics to each other. I don’t use this word that often, but it was downright magical. Yeah, there were other people there, but as far as either of us were concerned, it was just me and Rebecca.

She asked me to take a few pictures with her and her friends. I always prefer being in front of the camera instead of behind the camera And I’m sure the camera feels the same way. I kind of sneered at seeing Rebecca with all those guys, but soon I was the only guy who mattered.

When pictures were done with, we were all gathered around the couch. I tried to put my arm around Rebecca. She turned to me. “Robert are you okay?”

“My arm’s just a little sore.”

“Well, why don’t you put your hand here?” Rebecca said as she put my hand on her thigh. Even if she was doing the work for me, I decided to go for the gold. I started to rub her thigh a bit.

“You have such fabulous thighs.”

She laughed at this. “Thanks Bobby. But watch it, I’m ticklish.”

“Oh, you are?” I started tickling the thighs a little more. I’m not normally into that sort of bizarre kinky stuff, but Rebecca seemed to be digging it and getting a thrill out of it. So I ran with it! I teased her a bit like I was going to stop, and then I grabbed her tummy which I found was really ticklish.

“Listen, Bobby, why don’t you sit there continuing to be cute. I got some other friends who want to see me.” She playfully slapped my thigh as she went on. Oh sure, Rebecca, go ahead and hang out with those other people. You’ll make your way back to me.

I tried to talk to some of the other people there, but nothing was changing from the last time I tried talking to them. In other words, second verse, same as the first. Let them say what they wanted to. I had the love of a beautiful woman, and that was all that mattered.

To be concluded…

Copyright 2015 Alex deCourville

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