HIM .. Joe Goldberg

WHERE

I HAVE EXACTLY TWO HOURS and twenty-eight minutes before my shift starts. In that time, I need to shower, pick out an outfit (not slutty, but enough for imagination to leak though), and do my makeup to make it seem like I'm not wearing any, that I'm just naturally flawless.

It's nine in the morning, according to your website you've been up since six. For a moment, as I race out of bathroom with a cloud of steam following thickly behind, I thank the goddess of love that you didn't open later. If you opened at ten, I wouldn't make it. It's a long commute, Joe, and I take the subway. If you opened at eight, I'd look too excited coming in. While I want you to know that I'm interested, I know that someone overly clingy will scare a man away. I want to show you that I'm just right.

I buy you a cup of coffee, there's a shop right beside Mooney's, and due to our meeting last night it won't be weird that I offer it to you. Black, I have a little bag of cream and sugar for you to chose from. We both came home later in the night, after twelve. We both had a few drinks and maybe you'd even call it one too many. I can make a joke: Thought this would help you today. Lord knows it helped me!

Hannah is asleep on my couch, snuggled against a furry blanket with a black and white cow pattern. She wakes up as I open the front door to leave. "Mmm, you getting breakfast?" Her voice is a quiet rasp, desperately hopeful. She's hungover.

"I need to go to work, babe. I'm sorry."

"Mmm," sadder this time. She turns her back on me and curls into a collection of pillows. I sigh as leave the apartment, I don't have time to make sure she feels happy. I need to see you.

When I walk into the Mooney's, I have a question in mind that I ask as soon as the bells above the door ring. "Hey, you got Lolita in here?"

It's your coworker who answers, Joe, and I've never felt a hotter kind of rage. Is this how you felt when he cut off our very first conversation together? "Um, what? Ha, you came in here yesterday, right?"

I'm in scrubs rather than a red dress, and when he sees this poor Curtis is disappointed. No more eye-candy. "Vladimir Nabokov? I didn't finish my trip from yesterday, I suppose."

He smiles and goddammit Joe, where are you? "It's hella big in here, I'm not surprised. You need help finding the book? Lola?"

"Lolita, and would you mind?"

I asked the fucking question for you, Joe. I was expecting you to lead me through dozens of shelves, finding a dark corner to continue our sweet kiss from last night in more fun, primitive ways. No cute peck on the lips but the true taste of who you are, yet you're not here. Was I wrong? Did I have the wrong idea all along? No, of course I didn't. You came to the bar I tweeted about, that wasn't a coincidence. You want me to chase you just like I want you to do for me. So you're playing hard to get, is that it? Where are you, Joe? You said Bukowski was waiting for me, yet I don't think this fresh outta high school prick would have any idea who he was. Is this your way of being cheeky? If so, it's unattractive.

Where are you?

You want me to go after you? You want me to find you, Joe? You want me to reach out? I will. If that's what you want, I'll write old fashioned love notes, signed anonymous until it drives you crazy inside. Who is this person? They're not copying them from classics, these are original. Who are you? I'll make you suffer just like you're making me.

I need to dig from Curtis, apparently. He'll know where you are. Did you call out, are you coming late? "So, is it just you working?"

Curtis snorts. "Naw, I wish. Joe said he'll be back by lunch."

Ah! So you are here, just not right now. While I want to meet you. I can already tell timing won't be our thing later on, showing up late to parties and get-togethers and having everyone mad at us. We're going to be so cute, Joe.

I look at Curtis and I smile the hypnotizing grin I practiced in the mirror for ten minutes after getting out of the shower. He's looking at me curiously, what do I have planned? I hold out your coffee. "You want this? I got it for a friend before work, but she told me she isn't coming in literally a second before I walked in. I promise, there's no poison." I chuckle.

"Thanks!" Curtis takes the coffee and the brown bag and his eyes are bright and he assumes I'm into him. I gave him coffee, I'm beautiful and look sexy in a dress and he's wondering why I took him into the depths of the bookstore if it isn't to make out for a minute. This should be you, Joe. You should be having those thoughts, you should be looking at the coffee in delightful surprise and imagining what a good girlfriend I'll be if I'm already spending my money on you. You're fucking missing out, Joe, and it's all your own fault.

Where.

The fuck.

Are you?

I'm still smiling even though my cheeks are getting sore but I'm good at enduring and I say, "No problem. You were super helpful yesterday, by the way. Thank you."

The child in Curtis is so clear, even though he tries to hide it with drugs and alcohol and crimes and sex. He looks at me, doting, a mother's approval. You're doing great, sweetie! I love you.

"No problem. You were beautiful."

I could remark something petty, I'm not now? but I'm the perfect girl and I don't take things seriously and I don't get offended easily and I know when to take a compliment when I'm given one. I'm still smiling because I'm picturing the moment when you walk back in and Curtis is telling you about this exact moment. Yeah, that hot girl from yesterday came in looking for you. She gave me your coffee. You're missing out, dude, she's bad as fuck. Will you be jealous, Joe? Will you be mad at him, or me, or yourself for not being there? Maybe all three, that'll be pretty hot.

"Thank you, you're so sweet. What's your name again?"

"Curtis. This is just a day job type thing, I DJ."

"Honest man by day, party god by night. I love it."

He laughs because I'm funny and engaging when most girls would have brushed him off by now and where, oh where are you, Joe?

"Totally."

The bells above the door ring and I pray that it's you. I want you to see us together alone and get mad and possessive and show that you care enough to start a fight for me and it has to be you it only makes sense that you knew I was here and you came-

An elderly woman is at the beginning of the isle, and she looks impatient. "Is there anyone working?" Shut up, you stupid bitch. Joe, where the fuck are you?

Curtis looks at me apologetically and I try to keep the annoyance off my face. "Sorry, I gotta..."

"It's fine, go ahead."

Joe, you fucked up big time.