Might Be All Right

So, yesterday, I went to the movies with NB.

We hadn't hung out in a while, not since early Feb, and I had asked her earlier in the week if she wanted to hang out. Trying to maintain a friendship, was the plan.

I suggested the movie, because I really wanted to see it. Grindhouse. She didn't mind, and we planned a matinee. Then, she wrote back saying maybe we could do lunch afterwards, and maybe drinks. Martinis.

When she said that, my first thought was, What's up with that? Bombed in the afternoon? That sounds odd. Actually, that sounds flirty.

All week leading up to it, my mind kept coming back to what could be going on. I told myself I was being crazy. I told myself not to think that way.

We met for the movie, and it was fun. We went for Mexican food afterwards. The restaurant was just starting happy hour. Double margaritas for $4. Big plate of steak nachos for $6. We indulged.

The conversation was easy. We were congratulating ourselves on maintaining our friendship when some other people we know got divorced and couldn't stand each other.

We finished up, and she offered to take me home. It was bright light out, and only 5:30. I was buzzed enough to be energized, but not too drunk to want to stop. I suggested we keep drinking and hanging out. She said ok.

We went to another bar, after a search for somewhere open. It was Easter after all. We talked about past Easters and how did we spend them. '03 Cat show topped our list.

At the next bar, the conversation turned serious. Mostly about failed intentions, and lessons learned. Goals for the future, and regrets from the past.

We would sneak outside every once in awhile to let her smoke. We were getting drunk.

Then, I noticed her outfit. She had dressed up for me. She was wearing a tight dress, and snake skin boots. She had also commented on my outfit.

I thought about that, and I remembered getting dressed. The way I chose what to wear that day, made me realize that I was dressing up for her. I was dressing up to seduce. Then I realized she must have done the same.

So, standing outside of the bar, drunk, I brought the subject up. Told her I wanted to fuck.

She said she did too. We thought about it. Thought about how it might be the worst decision ever. Then, we said neither one of us wanted to get back together with the other. We liked each other, and were attracted, but both of us knew we weren't right for each other.

So, with both of us in agreement, we went back into the bar, finished our drinks, paid the bill, and left.

A comical stop at a liquour store to get condoms resulted when she refused to go to my place, since it used to be her place.

We decided that the deed must be done in a locale that hadn't been used before. Signifying the new pact, and not a return to something past. However, my condoms were at my house, and she said she only had one at her house. (a sentence that made my ears perk up as I realized that she intended to do it multiple times)

We entered her place and she said, Do you want a beer or do we just go at it?

How's that for romance? I declined the beer.

Strange and familiar. That is how I would describe it. After two years, much has changed, and much hasn't.

It wasn't uncomfortable. Even afterwards, when the reality hits you. There was no regret, and also, there was no unintended emotions welling up. It was friends, who had gotten liquored up, and went to 'that' place.

Even today, there isn't a dream like version of the future playing in my head. There is just business as usual.

I can't say that it will ever happen again. I can't say it won't.

I can say it was great. Not a bad Easter. That beats the Cat show.