My eyes drift toward a shelf with really realistic looking dildos.
“Those come in a variety of sizes. Is this your first? You might want to start with a smaller one and work your way up.” The lady advises me and I nod.
“Jen said my dates are disasters because I’m too tense and I need to relax. Maybe a vibrator or the panties would take the edge off my pre-date jitters?”
She agrees. “Hell with a good vibrator and pussy eating panties you won’t need a date.”
She advises me to start small and work my way up but all of a sudden I feel really awkward and begin backing away from the counter, excited and overwhelmed at the variety of ways to get myself off on offer here.
I almost reach the door, still feeling the shop owner’s eyes on me. I give her kudos for not being embarrassed and mentally curse Jen for not warning me about what kind of shop she worked at.
“I ummm...don’t know. Maybe I’ll think about it.” I take another step back. I feel silly to be this embarrassed but right now. I need to get out of here.
The lady says something about sending something home with Jen for me and I thank her, dashing for the door.
Dang to my mother’s strict upbringing. I should be totally comfortable with this kind of stuff, shouldn’t I? I almost decide to head back inside but then think that maybe it’s better to see what Jen’s boss sends over.
I’ll be taking matters into my own hands, I think snorting at my own dorky pun.
2.
Hunks and Tsunamis
Blake
MY PHONE VIBRATES AS I take the last spoonful of cereal to my mouth: it’s a fucking Tinder notification.
Shit, I forgot to cancel my membership, I think as I take a look at the screen.
All of a sudden my day starts looking up, what are the odds? This must be fate for sure.
“You haven’t cancelled it yet?” Max grins stepping into the kitchen with a knowing smile on his face and working an elastic band to tie his blond hair in his typical man bun.
“Yeah, I forgot,” I say and then can’t resist making fun of him. “I don’t need any chicks when I have you around with that long blond hair and the fucking ability to multitask. Since you can do your hair and be a pain in my ass at the same time.”
He laughs, his eyes creasing as he pours himself a cup of coffee and comes to sit at the kitchen table.
Ribbing each other mercilessly is our thing, we don’t mean anything by it. I’ve been best friends with Max and Porter since we were kids and I guess humor is our way to show our love for one another.
“Well fuck, I’ve been debating if I should get a haircut. That Thor thing has stuck and it’s becoming fucking ridiculous.”
I chuckle at his annoyed expression. Last Christmas wasn’t the first time that someone called Max ‘Thor’, when he rescued a girl at the local high school. The poor thing had a concussion and when she opened her eyes and saw Max, she thought a Norse god had come to her rescue. She kept saying Thor saved her and Max’s colleagues heard her and thought it was funny, so it stuck. I really can’t blame the girl, because my best friend looks exactly like Thor: six foot seven, long blond locks and dark blue eyes. If that wasn’t enough, Max looks like his body has been carved in marble, even his abs have abs. And no, before anyone gives me shit about it, I don’t swing that way but anyone with eyes can see Max’s physical perfection.
“Yeah but it’s fucking annoying, dude. Every time I get on a scene, every time I set foot at the hospital, no one really takes me seriously. They’re more excited to be rescued by Thor than anything. I thought that if I cut my hair, maybe they’ll quit.”
“Maybe,” I snicker. Thor ... ehm, Max sorry, works as an EMT and he certainly doesn’t need Tinder because he gets hit on constantly by men and women alike.
I’m not ugly by any means but I’m more quiet and reserved than my best friend and I guess when I’m in my police uniform, I might look intimidating. So I get way less chicks throwing themselves at my feet.
My phone vibrates again and I finally open the app, paying full attention to whoever my latest match is.
“Holy shit! I can’t believe my fucking luck!”
“What?” Max says trying to crane his neck to look at my screen but I move it out of his view.
“The match is the girl I told you about. I can’t believe she’s on Tinder.” I look at the photo of the blonde beauty that walked into the police station a couple of weeks ago to file a complaint about being stalked. I wasn’t the officer handling her case but sure as fuck, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her the whole time she was at the station.
I couldn’t resist the temptation to look at her file and I’ve seen her around town a few times but I’ve been looking for a way to casually bump into her.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t just go talk to her that night,” Max says shaking his head.
“Dude, it was hard. She looked upset and then my phone rang and by the time I was done, she’d left. I couldn’t exactly show up at her place or follow her, right? She’d just filed a complaint for being stalked.”
Max chuckles again. “Right. Because that isn’t what you’ve been doing by trying to ‘provoke’ a casual meeting?”
“Yeah but not in a creepy way, ok?” I defend myself. “But I’m not gonna need an excuse anymore because she just messaged and we’re going on a date tonight.”
Max offers me his fist to bump. “Way to go, motherfucker! Just text me if you need me to stick to my room tonight, in case you bring her here.”
I shrug but don’t comment either way. The reality is that I’m a little bored with meaningless hookups. I think I’m ready to find someone important, someone I’m excited to see, who shares my passions and ultimately, my life. Fuck, I sound like a dating commercial but really that’s how I’ve been feeling.
“What about you, dude?” I ask grinning at Max’s running clothes. “Did you manage to ask out your hot jogger?”
Max shakes his head. “No, dude. I don’t know what’s my fucking problem, I swear. Every time I see her, as soon as I think about approaching her, I get sweaty palms and a lump in my throat. I feel like I’m sixteen all over again and about to ask the cheerleader captain to homecoming.”
I laugh at his statement and I wouldn’t make light of Max’s situation if him feeling shy weren’t completely ridiculous. Seriously it’s uncanny how chicks flock to him like moths to a flame.
But I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t at least try to offer him some words of encouragement. “Come on, dude. Let’s make a pact. You talk to her and ask her out next time you see her. Come on, if my tinder date with my girl goes well, we could double date.”
He sighs but nods, suddenly deep in thought. “Yeah. Maybe even triple date if Porter musters the courage to ask out that hot nurse he’s been crushing on.”
I don’t tell him that my crush is a nurse too, wouldn’t it be funny if they knew each other? Silver Springs Memorial is pretty big but not huge, so there’s a chance that mine and Porter’s crushes might even be friends.