I texted J.N.S. and invited her. This began a multi-day, endless back-and-forth of trying to talk her into meeting me to shoot guns. It was funner that it sounds.
For every time I said something like, "You should join me at x date and time," she'd counter with a description of some physical or emotional malady that would prevent her from going: the loud noises would hurt her ears, she had too much fun the last time she saw me and didn't want it to "go downhill", etc. I responded exclusively with non sequiturs or by changing the subject.
I can't win the war of negativity with this girl. It isn't going to happen. She's outrageous.
I'm specifically going to NOT try, too. I mustn't mention any kind of loneliness, terror, or anxiety to her. I think that would queer things. Every time I've alluded to anything similar, she's tensed up a a bit. Makes me think that this bloody "alpha" pose we (men) must maintain to be successful with women really is universal, even with the WEIRDEST girl I've ever met. (Which is not to say I don't like her—I do.)
SO... We drove to the shooting range. I'd suspected that it would be the place I dropped A.B. off when she took her concealed carry class (this was one of our last outings together) and was proven correct. I told J.N.S. I'd never been there before. The place was closed. They had holiday hours.
(Before arriving, I stopped and bought my first lighter in years. This strikes me at this moment as being very important for some reason.)
Since we weren't going to shoot, we someone decided to go to a New Seasons grocery store in Vancouver, Washington. I guess J.N.S. needed some vegetables to make split pea soup. So off we went.
We hilariously got lost several times en route, but eventually we ended up at the store in the suburbs. J.N.S. is difficult to shop with. She wanders rapidly from item to item, throws mushrooms on the floor, etc. I found it endearing, of course. (Will it seem that way six months from now?)
Eventually she had what she wanted. I bought a bottel of wine, a custard doughnut, and an apple. I ate both foods in the car and J.N.S. ate whatever hand foods she'd bought. Then I drove her home because I was meeting Kate and them at the Standard bar for Kate's birthday. J.N.S. said she was not feeling well and didn't want to go.
We kissed for a few moments outside her place. Her little, sharp tongue darted about. She has a distinctive pleasant smell. I think I accidentally passed a small bit of apple skin into her mouth from between my teeth. I don't worry about that sort of thing much anymore, I guess. Then I drove away.
I parked in the wrong place and had to walk six blocks in the cold to get to the Standard. Had, ha ha, my standard level of anxiety concerning running into A.B. (are those even her initials anymore?) but it was quickly excised upon arrival.
Here are the people who were there:
- Kate's new boyfriend, called Jeff
- Dan Asay
- That girl Kate works with, the one with the dreadlocks
- Pseudo-lesbian L.
- Katie's colleague C., as well as C.'s husband whose name escapes me (he should go by "Lucky"—they are outrageously mismatched in my opinion)
We drank and sang in the restaurant for a few hours. Dr. Snake showed up just as we were leaving. Then we went to Chopsticks.
Nothing much memorable about the rest of the night, except I think I saw a hot chick from OKCupid what calls herself Northflow or FlowsNorth or Snow-something. I don't know. Cute girl: slender, with glasses.