Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • I went down to her office and said, “So are we doing this?” I had texted her earlier and gotten no response from her.
    With a face full of reluctance she said, “Sure why not.” She then gave me a smile. We headed out to our bikes, and tried to beat the rush out of the school, but to no avail. She looked pretty, in her dorky bike helmet and blue cardigan; it’s a beautiful chilly fall night.
    We get to the end of the street still unsure where to go. “You pick a place,” I say hoping that she wouldn’t drag us all the way downtown.
    “Go left!!,” she yells out as she runs the light , I thought to myself what the fuck! Of course I follow and we both narrowly miss getting hit.
    I asked her what the hell that was; she laughed. “What, the light was yellow they weren’t going to hit us.”
    This, coming from the girl who constantly gives me a hard time about not wearing a helmet. It reminds me of a line from an NBC news report, “Police are searching for the person who struck a bicyclist near Union Station Thursday night and left the scene.”
    “Room 11,” she says after biking a couple more blocks.
    “Cool, I’ve never been.”
    We get to the place, lock up our bikes and are seated outside. We do some small talk and agree we won’t talk about work so naturally we talk about work. I have an old fashion and she orders a martini.
    We have another round. This being one of the first dates I had been on in a
    while, I had to admit I was a little nervous. The odds, however, were in my favor, according to an article written in Forbes, “Women outnumber men in Washington, D.C.” I have nothing to worry about; I won’t be dying alone and single.
    I start playing with her hand while listening to a story about her mother purposely trying to make her have the chicken pox. She had to spend her first grade Valentine’s Day taking oatmeal baths. I laughed. I could picture her with her green puppy dog eyes crying that she had to stay home. I continue to play with her hand. I stare at it, while she continues her story. I look up and we make eye contact. She says, “It’s okay.” I guess I made a face.
    We have another round and talk about work, South America, maybe going to Chile over the winter break.
    We check the time, its 10:30pm.
    We have another round. We tell each other that we should get the check and head out. We ask for it, but before we close out we have yet another. We laugh and giggle some more at the expense of her childhood, and head out to another bar down the block.
    We order whiskey gingers and look for space at a bench in the patio. We ask are these seats taken. The guy responds, “Yeah all of my non-friends are sitting here.”
    I respond. “Great, we aren’t friends. Luckily, he laughs and nothing comes of it.
    We have another round.
    I kiss her; I had missed the feel of her lips. It had been about 3 months since I last kissed her. We tended to fall in and out of touch. Something about it just felt right, maybe it was the alcohol.
    We have another round.
    She says there’s something I have to tell you; again she hesitates and says it could be good or bad. She confesses she has been weird for a reason, “there is someone else.” I’m a serial “monogamist and she claims she has never had a real boyfriend.
    She tells me about him; I can’t remember the details or maybe I didn’t want to listen, who knows. She tells me he was from out of town and did not seem to be available. She said, “I like you too.” We kiss again.
    After a while we look at the time and decide we should head out, we start biking down towards my place and I stop a the bottom of a hill and say, “we should go to your place.”
    She responds, “No, not tonight we both have to be up early.”
    We keep biking a couple more blocks until we get to my house. I asked her if she wants to come in.
    She says, “No, I can’t. I don’t know what will happen.” With a grin on her face says, “ I don’t know what I want right now.” We laugh, because both have had a lot to drink at this point.
    I go inside and get her some water, she drinks half the bottle, we chat for a bit longer and she gets up and leaves. The next morning I get up find the half-drank bottle of water on my doorstep and her helmet in the bushes.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.