I like the sunshine here. I don't know why, but it just feels warmer in California. The actual rays coming from the sun feel warmer, is that even possible? Shouldn't sunshine in Califronia feel the same in Alaska or Nebraska or Florida? I don't mean the air temperature; I mean the actual light rays flying across space at 186,282 miles an hour slapping us in the face. here, it doesn't feel like a slap, just a gentle sort of enveloping hug.
I could really get used to this.
Unfortunately, I have work on Monday. So today, Saturday, I'm spending the day with my friends until the long awaited concert at seven. I can't wait!! These guys are great! I mean REALLY great. The insane part? They don't even use instruments. They don't need them. They're like, "Psh, we got this. Put yo bitch ass drums and guitars away while we blow your minds with our super-sick-hella-rad talent here. If you can still feel your face afterwards, maaaaybe we'll give you the stage back,".
Actually they'd probably never say that, it's part of their appeal; their humility that is. I sigh. Because I am a drama llama and really wish my friends would hurry up. I've been waiting for AGES for them to leave that cringe-inducing Hot Topic or Victoria's Secret or wherever the hell they went. I can't stand malls.
So I sit; quietly scratching away on my sketchbook, seeking inspiration in all the faces passing by. Inspiration has been elusive lately...it must be the dreaded Art Block I've been plagued by. Those words must always be bolded and italicized, because Art Block. it's lIke a diesase. I huff and put my sketchbook back in my bag. Looks like I'm not getting anything done in that department. All I'm left with now is my thoughts; my phone died on my overnight pilgrimage from my home state to SFA. I haven't had any sleep since Friday morning...about four o'clock? Geez.
I'm really frickin bored. Maybe I could grab a quick nap; or not. There's way too many people here and I am a suspicious, paranoid lady. I let out a slightly moosey groan as I lean back in my seat; resting my head on the back of the chair. It's probably really unattractive that I'm slouching the way I am with my legs splayed out like a frat boy, but I. Just. Don't. Care. I think I feel a sleep comin' on...
"HEY!". What the fuck? I bolt upright, fixing my beanie hat. What a weird name for a hat; beanie. Beeeee-neeeeeee...beaNIE. BEEEnie. Bees Knees. Haha. beanies are the Bees KNEES. EL. OH. ELLL. I am hilarious.
"Hey!". Who the hell is that? I look around and see no one yelling at me. Am I hallucinating? I might be hallucinating. Or maybe some douche is actually yelling and should just shut up. I resume my former position, (legs crossed this time, head back, arms crossed) and try to close my eyes. This proves to be rather difficult with the sun glaring at me.
"Fuck you, Sun," I murmur.
Someone is yelling again, "Yoo hoo!" they trill in a ridiculous voice. Maybe I should answer. Just for funsies.
"WHAT?!" I snap back in a hopefully deadly(ish) sounding tone. Someone laughs. Shit. They were just messing with me. I better leave before they think they have to some talk to me. But...this bench...is suddenly the most comfortable thing in the universe. DO NOT MOVE AN INCH seems to be the message every fiber of my being is screaming at me. So I have to obey, right? No one can criticize me for listening to my body; I even need to do more of it, according to my personal trainer.
Wait, I don't have a personal trainer. Oh well; sleep, take me into your comforting arms. I don't care if I get robbed, I just want to snooooze....
"Hey," Someone whispers. Why can't this asshole leave me alone? I roll my head in their direction as sarcastically as I can possibly manage. It's surprisingly easy.
"Yes?" I ask. Looking at the person, I see now that he is a man. He is an attractive man, even. With a beanie matching my own and a neatly trimmed beard framing his jawline and full lips. His eyes are green and they are marvelous. He seems familiar; but that's not possible, because I've never met an angel before...I think I'm actually hallucinating now. I must be, because he graces me with his presence on the bench.
He leans over, really close. I should probably be at least a little freaked out, but I let him whisper in my ear, "My name is Avi, and I think you're beautiful,". His breath is hot and his words make me blush.
I whip my head around to face him and ask him incredulously, "Oh really?". He just smiles a perfect smile at me. He has nice teeth, too...those lips of his are really distracting. I bat my eyes and lean in close to his ear and whisper in a terribly done seductive tone, "Well, with all due respect, I think you need to get your eyes checked,". I lean back, basking in my obvious victory.
His laugh is rich and deep. I can't help but smile at the sound and am slightly disappointed when he stops. The sudden need to make him laugh again is an intense need that makes my sleep deprived brain spin. The only thing that centers me is when he speaks.
"I'll have you know that my eyes work perfectly fine,". I cross my arms.
"Avi-ously not," I reply.
Avi's eyebrows furrow, "Did you just...?". I suddenly realize what I just said and my face gets entirely too red, I can feel it. "You just said, 'Avi-ously', didn't you?".
"No!". I reply all too quickly. And he knows it; he's smiling again, goddammit. "I said OB-viously! You just need your ears checked, too!". His smile drops from his face. Uh oh.
"I hope you aren't calling me tone deaf," he utters in a hurt voice. I think it even cracked a little. His eyes seem to take on a darker shade of green. Is that supposed to happen? Or is that just a thing that happens in sordid romance novels?
I hold my hands up in defense, "Not at all! I never said that!". His wounded facade cracks, and he grins at me again. This prick. I punch his shoulder and look the other way. If I look at him at all, I know I'm going to just completely lose my mind. Moreso than I already have, that is. He laughs at my feeble attempt at hitting him. Another voice calls out, directed towards our little bench.
"Avi!" A big black dude yells. He seems familiar, too. He casts a brief glance my way as he approaches, then turns his attention to Avi, "Hey, man, we gotta go. Rehearsal is in thirty minutes".
"Oh, shoot. okay; be right there," he responds.
Kevin looks at me and winks, "This guy isn't giving you any trouble, is he?". He has a nice smile, too. What the hell is with that? Is everyone in California attractive? There really is no hope for me.
I laugh and politely say, "No, he's fine. Thank you for your concern, though,".
"Alright," to Avi, he says, "You ready?".
"Um; yeah, I guess so,". I frown; I daresay I superfrown. Kevin turns to leave. Avi stands, but doesn't walk away just yet. He spins around and grabs my face between his hands. He leans in really really close and I know my face is on fire now because his lips are close (so close!) to mine and I don't know if I can deal with that thought.
He whispers in his crazy low voice, "I know you don't believe it, but you truly are beautiful. Gorgeous, even,". I about die when he kisses my forehead. Releasing my head, he winks at me and says as he walks away, "See you at the concert!". I sit there like an idiot.
What?
OH.
That was Avi Kaplan!
