Page 100 of Story of My Life
“What?” The man had me so far off center, I was grateful gravity kept me from spinning off into the cosmos.
“Hoagie and beer,” he repeated. “What kind do you like?”
“If byhoagieyou meansub, Italian. And Molson.”
“Stay here. You wouldn’t make it a block in those shoes.”
And with that order, he was gone, clicking the Lock button on his fob as he strolled across the parking lot like I was some precious cargo and he hadn’t just dazzled me with his full chestal nudity.
I pulled out my phone and opened my messages with Zoey.
Me:Cam just took his shirt off without warning and I panicked.
Zoey responded immediately with aSchitt’s CreekGIF of David Rose saying, “I feel like that needs to be celebrated.”
Me:I turtled my head into my neck and closed my eyes.
Zoey:I need more information…and pictures.
Me:I was too busy spontaneously combusting to document the moment.
Zoey:Fine. Then I’ll settle for an explicit play-by-play.
Me:He took me on the worst date ever and acted like an absolute grump all because he didn’t want to go out in the first place.
Zoey:Coward.
Me:I called him out and stormed out of the restaurant. Or tried. He caught me and “apologized” by saying, “I’m an ass.”
Zoey:Stating facts is not an apology!
Me:THANK YOU! Anyway, he insisted on driving me home and manhandled me in a sexy way into his truck.
Zoey:Well, as long as it was in a sexy way.
Me:Then he said he owed me a real date AND PULLED INTO A GAS STATION AND TOOK HIS SHIRT OFF.
Zoey:I can only assume since you’re texting me that you murdered him with the chain strap of your purse.
Me:All my self-defense training went out the window thanks to his half-frontal nudity.
Zoey:I mean, how great can a dude’s torso be?
Me:So great. Like “I cannot stress this enough” extremely great.
Zoey:Where is our shirtless eighth wonder of the world now?
Me:He went into the Wawa after asking me what kind of hoagie I like.
Zoey:Do you need me to call the police?
Me:There are no police here! Remember? But if you don’t hear from me in the next hour, you can call Cam’s mom.
Zoey:Setting a 60-minute timer now.
The driver’s-side door opened, and I fumbled my phone. Cam handed me a plastic bag and then leaned in to place a six-pack of beer at my feet.
His forearm brushed my bare leg from ankle to thigh, and I reacted as if I’d been electrocuted by a hair dryer in a bathtub.
