BY FAITH CHAZA
she had insisted that we hang out.
i suggested after work drinks. lols, “work”.
the day rolled around, she mentioned more people were coming. cool.
old friends, acquaintances from high school, social networking mentions.
she sat next to me. and as we all pulled in closer on the couch, held on to my leg.
the wait staff brought more chairs.
she didn’t quite let go.
we all chatted about the city. leaving the city. and returning.
about adulthood. jobs. our parents.
eventually the others left.
we stayed for one more.
and i grinned as she spoke of vulnerability.
made her smile as i compared earnest public statements to smoking indoors.
emptying the bottle down my throat i offered a ride home.
during which she offered a description of how, um, horny she was.
my not so inner prude simply looked straight on.
having taken a route well out of my way,
i spent the time home worrying about the state of my advancement detection engine.
about how it had been fed contradictory information all year.
now i honestly couldn’t tell an invitation from an overly familiar tmi moment.
once home i watched xena on mute, teen pop playing on blast.
like porn for feelings.