Page 4 of Flirtasaurus
“Oh. Yeah. Neither am I.”
“Did you just sit down? It sounded like you just sat down.”
“Well, it seems we’re going to be here a while, yeah?”
“You’re going to wait with me?”
“Course.”
“Oh. Well, that’s… that’s really nice. Thank you. I just pressed all the buttons again, so—”
“You gotta stop doing that!”
“You gotta stop telling me what to do! “
“A’ight. A’ight. Did you just sit down too?”
“Yeah. This floor is heinous, but what the hell. Hey, um. Did you just say a’ight a moment ago?”
“I think so?”
“Why?”
“Dunno. Trying it out, I guess?”
“Yeah, don’t do that. Doesn’t sound right from you. You’re clearly not an a’ight kind of guy.”
“How can you tell?
“Just a… a feeling I get from you.”
“Oh.”
Some of that silence descends between us again. I break it.
“Anyway… I’m sure the maintenance guys, or the firemen, or whoever’s jurisdiction it is to understand elevator buttons will be here any minute.”
“I hope not.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
Okay, can we take a time-out for a moment? Is anyone else hearing this man’s voice? This man’s delightful, honey-buttered, rumbly-crumbly-croissant, warm-hazelnut-coffee-on-a-Monday-morning voice? Hm. I must be hungry. I should’ve pre-gamed this morning and thrown a hard-boiled egg down the hatch or something. But don’t worry. They’re serving breakfast refreshments at the orientation, so I’ll be all good. If I ever get there of course. But even if I wasn’t hungry? Goddamn… this delicious voice of his would still fill. Me. Up. And that whole “I hope not” moment was definitely flirtatious, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I think he just asked me something requiring a response.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was just asking you if—”
“Wait. I just used an unnecessary sorry as a filler. I need to start over. ‘Fuck you, what?’ There, that’s better.”
“What?”
“Damn, I took that re-do too far, didn’t I? Now I really am sorry.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Before, I said, ‘Sorry, what?’”
