Christopher C Hoitash

The Meeting Well, it’s Wednesday. We agreed to meet today. I decided to go to the café early, because I apparently have no life beyond my hobbies, college courses, and the pathetically few hours of work I do each week. I spend too much time on the computer, being here is a good thing. I need to start that essay when I get back. Oh, my drink’s ready. “Here you go,” the only guy behind the counter was named Mike. He and I have gotten to know each other since I asked her out; I’m not sure why. I can’t tell if he’s gay-not that it matters- or just has really great hair, but it’s a lighter brown than mine. Either way he’s a good guy. I have to ask him what he uses on his hair one of these days. “Thanks Mike. Uh, this is a medium.” “Yeah, stupid cup has weird measurement markers. Made too much by mistake,” he couldn’t help smirking as he said that. “Thanks,” I grab the drink and sit at one of the many un-occupied tables, thankful I agreed to meet when few people are around. I check my wristwatch; it’s almost four. I hope she shows up. The weather isn’t that bad, but weather in Michigan can be fickle. Right now it’s a bit cloudy, but should be fine. Now I need to think about what we’re going to talk about. Keep asking her open questions, listen, be attentive. Make eye contact. I’ve never been good with that, but when I look into her eyes I can’t help but keep looking, listening. I hope it’s not staring. I hope she’s single, but even if she’s not I could do worse than to have a pretty girl for a friend. An attractive woman willingly spending time with me is a good thing under most circumstances, really. I’m sure there’s somewhere it would be a bad thing, I just can’t think of them right now. My biggest worry really is not that she’ll have a boyfriend-or girlfriend for that matter-but that she will have one and I’ll be upset or unwilling to go on with the friendship. That would be stupid, and I am many things, but stupid is not one them. Although agreeing to this meeting seemed stupid to my cowardly nature. There she is; looks like she walked today. She’s a bit tall for a girl, but then I’m six feet one, so she’s still short to me, but that’s beside the point. She has long brown hair that she normally keeps into two braids twisted together, it reminds me of old rope, only smoother and a bit darker. Think of aged scotch for color. Today it’s looser, just a long flow of brown hair held behind her head with some clips. She ordered her hot water; she drinks a lot of tea. Now she’s looking for me, she has such bright beautiful blue eyes. You’re meeting her not asking her to become a model, settle down. I waved a bit and she saw me. She sat down in front of me at the small beige table in line with all the other tables, her bag at her feet. I did the old-school thing and got up as she sat down; apparently studying history has made me into a gentleman, sans the cane and cool hat. Well my hat’s at the dorm. Focus before she says something and you miss it. “Hey,” she said as she took off her coat. She was wearing a simple brown sweater under the coat, which was a light fall windbreaker, and it was black like a raincoat. The thinness of the coat explains the sweater, which wasn’t very thick, either. My turn to say something, here it goes. “Hi. Glad you could make it,” simple, honest, not creepy. “Me, too,” hurray. Okay, say something considerate. “How was your day?” well I guess that counted as considerate; it shows an interest in her, that’s definitely good. Not very original, but it’s something, at least. “Pretty good, although I had this one class today that’s kind of irritating.” “Why’s that?” Let her do most of the talking, be a good listener, people like that. And last time I checked, women were people, too. “Well the professor seems to be stuck in a high school mentality, it’s an easy class, but it’s also boring, not really college level in terms of material.” “Right, you want a class to at least be engaging, and if it’s boring that tends to suck the fun from it.” For the next half an hour or so we talked about classes: which ones we were taking, what classes she was taking, why she liked or disliked them, and her previous schooling came up, too. I made sure to ask a question after I answered one of hers, so she did most of the talking. After another half hour she kind of noticed and asked me some questions, mentioning that she was doing most of the talking. Actually she asked what I do outside of class. We’re both aspiring writers, although she writes mostly fantasy, and I write science fiction and more mainstream fiction. Well, I write fantasy, too, but hers is more high fantasy then mine. I know, riveting stuff to hear about. She hasn’t gotten to do a lot of writing during the semester, either. We have so much in common; we would be a great couple. Stop that, there is nothing wrong with being friends, especially if you have so much in common. Even if we don’t stay just friends, it’s a good place to start a relationship. “Normally I’m working right now, but they gave me the day off because of some maintenance issues,” she said. “Where do you work?” I asked. “The computer lab. Normally I work about sixteen hours a week.” “Sixteen hours of work, five classes and one of them honors? You must like to be busy.” “Well, it helps me to be out of my own head. Although this weekend I’m going dancing with my boyfriend in Albion; I had to spend some time making my dress for it, too.” So, she does have a boyfriend. There’s an odd feeling in my stomach. Its disappointment, sure, I’ll admit it. I still enjoy talking to her, though, and she seems to enjoy talking to me. Whether she enjoys it enough to meet with me again is another matter. Although if she met with me even though she had a boyfriend, then she must want to meet with me as a friend; or she was just curious. Well, you’re here; you’re talking, may as well go as far as you can. If the best I can do with her is be a friend with a lot of shared interests, then a friend I shall be. What if that’s not enough though? I mull that over as our conversation wraps up, giving parts of my brain space to wander and think about the implications of our, for lack of a better term, relationship. Despite some idle chatting before the class we had together last semester, and this meeting and the one before, where I arranged this meet, I don’t know very much about her. I know enough to know I want to know more, I guess. Does that make sense? I mean, yes, there is a physical aspect to it. She has beautiful hair and eyes, and she seems to like to do different things with her hair every now and then; sometimes its in two long braids, sometimes its just there, that sort of thing. The problem is, of course, if I want to know more, will I want the relationship to progress? Since that can’t happen, will it end up ticking me off and driving me away from her? I mentally shake my head. I’m being stupid. The one time I get over my social anxiety and the girl has a boyfriend. Chalk it up to a learning experience and move on. I don’t realize the problem to that statement until we say goodbye and agree we should do this again sometime, without actually committing to anything, is what the blazes did I learn?