22 March 2012

Slowly Dying of Embarrassment in the Corner

I was too lazy to make breakfast this morning so I decided to go for a healthy meal of coffee and a bagel at Dunkin' Donuts. As I was waiting for my order, a cute boy who resembled a young(er?) Tim Tebow walked in, stood in line, and gave me a sheepish grin. I would normally welcome a cute smile but we're in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn here and I can't be too safe so I just smile back at him and continue waiting next to the register. I grab my bagel and am about ready to head out when he catches up with me and asks for my name. Slightly shocked, I sign out an E-L-L-E to him to which he responds by signing out an A-L-F-I-E.
I choke out, "You can sign?!" while drinking my coffee.
"...and you can speak?" he laughs out.
"Well, I lost my voice and sound like a frog." I admit, impressed and incredulous.
"So is that pronounced ehl-ie or...?"
"No, like the magazine - but that works, too, I guess."
As we're walking around the neighborhood - really, with the intention that I'd lose him when I turn toward the block toward my apartment - I find out that he isn't a crazy homophobe with the intention of luring me into an alleyway, beating, and leaving me for dead. Why, then, is he talking to me? Surely no one can be this forward or charming.

"I don't know, I thought you were cute, so I decided to introduce myself." he replies. Good answer.
"Well, this is where I turn to go back to my apartment - it was good meeting you though."
"Can I walk you home, at least?" he says, flashing a sincere smile.
I'd rather you not know where I live so you could potentially stalk and then kill me, thanks. "Uh, sure." I say, confused.
Why I decided to allow this random stranger I just met walk me home, I have no clue. Maybe it was his smile. No, that was definitely a factor. Regardless he's walking me down the block and I'm not really paying attention to anything he's saying because I'm too caught up in my own thoughts regarding whether I should trip him and make a run for it, or allow him this polite conversation. Why do I think he's out to kill me? Paranoid, much? We finally arrive at my front door when he asks if I'd like to grab a formal lunch sometime.
After a pause, I finally say "I'm sorry, no - I'm not really ready or looking to date right now."
"Come on, it's just a meal. No expectations, I'd just like to see you again."
Who are you? "Um... sure, fine. Yeah, why not?"
Laughing, he shuffles through his bag trying to find his phone when I notice one of the papers reads out the name of a high school in the area. "So, trade numbers?" he says, handing his phone my direction. I hand him my phone, save my number on his, and we trade back when I ask, "So, are you like a teacher?"
Confused, he looks at me and says, "No, I'm a junior."
Silence. "How... old are you?" I ask carefully.
"Sixteen - well, my birthday's in a few months so I'm almost seventeen." He exclaims.
Brilliant. I feel like a complete and utter pedophile now. "Why? Where do you go to high school?" he asks back.
I'm slowly dying of shock and embarrassment when I finally say, "I'm old enough for this to be breaking some laws. Call me when you turn eighteen."
"Oh, wow. Can... I at least maybe add you on Facebook? We can still hang out, right?" he asks innocently.
Lord... what have I gotten myself into? "Yeah. Um, sure. Hah, wow... okay, well - I'm gonna go now, so..."
I open my front door, stand there for a minute and here him nervously laugh as he walks away, and run upstairs to die in a corner.


  1. This is a great story! You write very well. Please write more.

  2. Well, thanks, mate - you'll definitely be hearing more of my thoroughly awkward life.

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