"You're Letting HIM Post on Your Blog" Tour '11

Hi. I'm Peter. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to do 12 guest posts for people in 12 days. And for some reason Arielle thought it would be a good idea to host one. I'm not sure which of us showed worse judgment. I asked each person for a writing prompt. She gave me "why being single is awesome." It stumped me completely. This is what I eventually came up with.

"Being single is awesome," she yells over the house/techno/whatever music.

At least that's what he thinks she's saying.

He nods.

He wonders what the fuck "dubstep" is.

He sips his glass of ice water.

Clubs when you're sober are much like clubs during the day, he thinks.

The possibility and excitement are gone. The fun is gone.

It's all kind of sad, really.

His friend woooooooooooooooooos.

He forced-smiles and holds his glass in the air to her.

**********

A dance floor is an organism.

That he'd like to avoid.

She'd led him out here by the hand and then immediately disappeared into a group of Axe Body Spray and slightly askew baseball caps.

Every once in a while she'd glance over and give him a thumbs up that was about fifty percent question.

He'd nod - over the sorority girls that encircled him.

He now knows what squee-ing is. Sadly.

He is somewhat fascinated by how the sorority girls all have the exact same shade of blond hair. And seemingly matching boobs.

Not fascinated enough to stay for another song.

They hug him.

He thanks them.

He wanders off.

**********

They stand on the deck jutting more than a little precariously off the back of the bar.

His friend is beyond tipsy now.

She leans on him.

"Freedom," she slurs. "That's what it's all about."

"Earlier you told me it was all about getting to know yourself."

"It is. Pay attention!"

"Sorry."

"You see... Here's the thing. It is 1:45 in the morning and I can stay out as looooong as I want. I have no one to check in with. I mean, my cats have enough food and water for days. Days."

"That's super."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

He takes her by the shoulders and points her outwards, over the railing.

**********

They are lined up to get in another bar.

"This one is GREAT," she assures him, not very assuringly.

Another drunk girl stumbles into him. He holds her up.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Quite alright."

She looks up at him. "You're tallllllll."

"So I've heard."

"I think I like you," she says.

"I am very likable."

"Oooops. My boyfriend is coming."

A guy takes her by the arm and leads her to a cab.

Guy looks back over his shoulder and mumbles something.

Suddenly his friend yells "Fuck you!"

The guy turns around and walks towards them threateningly.

"Listen.... I'm sorry. She's drunk. Just climb into your cab with your girlfriend and let it go."

The guy looks past him, to his friend, and asks, "What did you say, bitch?"

He feels his face turning red.

He steps out of line. He puts his hand on the guy's shoulder and leads him a few steps away.

"Listen... I'm sober. I'm cranky. I have some inner rage saved up. And I'm THIS close to beating your ass up and down this sidewalk. And not your average, every day beating. I'm going to go all Sonny Corleone on his brother-in-law on you. And I know you know what I mean. So, if I was you I'd get in that cab and go home."

The guy blinks a few times.

"I'm going to get in that cab and go home."

"That's a good fella," he puts his hand on the guy's shoulder. "Have a great night."

He gets back in line next to his friend.

"Being single is about adventure!" she yells a whiskey cloud into his face.

**********

He helps her up the couple of steps leading to the door to her apartment building.

It is kind of a two steps forward, one sideways, and half a step back type of ordeal.

They eventually get there.

He opens the door for her.

"Good night."

She hugs him. "You know, another awesome part of being single is that you could stay the night," she says, punctuated by a burp.

"I wouldn't want to risk our friendship."

"That makes sense."

"Plus there's still a little bit of your vomit on my shoe."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"It's fine. That'll happen. I have big feet."

She falls against the wall.

"We should do this again!" she says inside with her outside voice.

"Okay."

"Soon?

"In geological time, sure."

She is confused. She smiles, whispers "Good night" and closes the door.

He exhales.

**********

He walks down the sidewalk, occasionally looking up at where he wishes that stars were visible.

He walks around a corner and finds himself in a sea of people congregating around a food truck.

He is navigating his way through when he bumps into a dancing girl.

She turns suddenly and smushes her plate of food against his shirt.

It is a three cheese crepe with carmelized onions and spinach.

They both look at his shirt. Then he looks at her.

"I'm so sorry --"

"It's fine," he replies.

"-- that I wasted my cheese on your shirt," she smirks.

A dimple forms suddenly and unexpectedly.

He says some combination of "Wow" and "Whoa."

"I was just--"

"Being adorable?"

"--dancing."

"Can I buy you a replacement?"

"You think I'm not going to eat this one? Pffft. Don't be a silly."

He introduces himself.

She does the same.

"If you remember my name, add me on Facebook when you get home," she says.

"I will. And I will."

"I suppose I should have asked this right away... Are you seeing anyone?"

"Me? Nope!" It comes out more excitedly than he plans.

"Good," she smiles.

And he smiles.

And the dude playing the bongos on a nearby stoop smiles. Though likely for different reasons.

"Bye."

"Bye," he says as he walks away, before turning back. "Nice to meet you!"

He turns and walks towards home.

He says her name over and over in his head. He wants to lock it in there.

He steps over sidewalk urine and heads east towards the most important Facebook friend request in the history of the world.

"Being single is awesome," he tells an annoyed girl holding up a very drunk friend.



Arielle's note: I was quite pleased when I found out that Peter was stumped by my prompt. After all, writing about love is Peter's forte (and even as a total cynic I have to say, he does it quite well), and my whole point was to try and bring him out of his comfort zone. Except instead of coming over to the dark side, Peter managed to finagle my prompt into something adorable. Blast!