Match Your Weakness With A Name

Four? Are You Sure?

The next day at work I make damn sure I get there ten minutes early. I'm gonna ask out a guy I met two days ago, and I might literally die. Not "literally" as in how most people use it to mean "figuratively," but "literally" as in Awsten might turn out to be a homophobic shitbag and actually murder me. Maybe I should be worried.

A guy I hardly recognize is on duty, which means Derek must be scrubbing the locker room floor, which also means I would be scrubbing that same floor had I not broken my hand. Jenna asked me yesterday if she and I could switch mundane office tasks. I agreed to that, not knowing that I would have to take phone calls.

But now I have to take phone calls, and it sucks, because I can't distract myself this time, unless I'm lucky and it's a slow day. As I look out at the pool, I get a hunch that the odds will be in my favor. There's barely anyone there.

Of course, Awsten and his small friend are there, just like they always are. Awsten's wearing a different color sweater today. It's green and a bit too big on him. He looks good in green. His small friend who may or may not have a name is already in the pool. I smile upon seeing them and meander up to him.

"Hey, G-spot," he says, and I crack up. "Can I call you G-spot?"

I laugh harder and shake my head.

"Damn it!" he exclaims. "I had a whole future planned out where you changed your name legally to G-spot."

I freeze. He had a whole future involving me planned out in his mind? He thought about me when we weren't texting? It seems unfair to crush his dreams like that.

"I'm kidding," he says, and I relax. "I did spend a long time trying to make your name into something sexual, though."

"Uh, I'm sorry," I say, "but imagine what that would look like on my college application."

"'Hi, my name is G-spot...'" He trails off. "What's your last name?"

"Wigington."

"'Hi, my name is G-spot Wigington, and I'm applying for Harvard.'" He grins wildly, and I can't help but share it. I almost forget what I came to do.

"Well, anyway," I say, my smile fading slightly "Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to...you know...go out sometime?"

"Oh. Oh, dang," he says, dropping the grin completely. Have I fucked up? Oh no. I totally have. I try to explain.

"Like, not anything serious, just...I was hoping we could talk face-to-face without, you know, a time constraint and several thousand little kids running around behind us." I gesture to the pool deck, where there is only one little kid running around behind us, but I think he gets it.

"I'm-um, uh," he pauses, "I'm really sorry if I'm being rude, by the way. I'm trying to work things out in my head, and..."

"Oh, it's all good," I say, resisting the urge to add "I'm much worse than you."

"It's just...my parents are really over-protective," he says, "and they definitely wouldn't let me...unless I make up some elaborate lie, which I can probably do."

"You're down with that?" I ask, and he nods.

"Yeah, I've done it before. So, long story short, yes, I would like to go out with you," he says, regaining the smile. "Let's see...I've got a doctor's appointment Saturday, but I'm free all day Sunday, if you're good."

"Uh, I have the day off Sunday," I say. "I'll come get you...around twelve?"

"Actually, can we make that two? I might sleep past twelve. You can surprise me. I'm down for almost anything," he says.