Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 76.: Confronted

I may have the perfect thing for her! It may be cheesy, and I may have completely missed the point, but it's fancy, I imagine also thoughtful, and something that's right up Annabelle's alley. It's the most basic of the things - tickets for the show. I know, lame, maybe even a bit too much, but that's how it is with me - go hard or go home.

In my mind, the tickets were hard to acquire. I know that seeing The Nutcracker with Aidan was absolutely nightmarish just because of getting the tickets. By the time we got to go to the show, we were all exhausted and just happy that a family returned the tickets just in time for us to buy it. And then Aidan didn't even like it!

Naturally, because of my previous experience, I panicked and started calling the institution obsessively. My motto was, if they don't have the tickets, they'll give me two just so I'd stop calling them.

When they didn't pick up the first few times and I was receiving calls, I was going insane, hanging up on everyone that wanted even a mere second of my time and attention. When they did answer the calls, however, I got the tickets easily. So, if she'll be happy about it, and I'm pretty sure she will be, Annabelle and I will go to see Faust the opera.

Now, I'm not big on operas. I can appreciate them, yes, but I am not exactly a fan of them. But Annabelle looks like someone who is definitely into these cultural things, and if she likes that, if she enjoys in men and women squealing loudly, that's good enough a motivation for me.

Once all of this is put to rest, I finally check the missed calls. I know I'm a popular guy, a delight to be around, but I didn't know I was that desired. The calls were mostly from business associates of Wells & Hether, one was from May asking me if I'd be up to spend a day with her boys, and the last one was from Mr Perfect - Mason de Souza.

He left me a voicemail even more concerned about my well-being than the first one. The fucker won't quit. Why can't he just accept I left and that I don't need him or his stupid wedding band. I don't understand why is he so concerned at all. He doesn't know I have a personal vendetta against him.

I brush off his existence from my awareness of today almost in the next minute. My mind is quite at peace knowing Annabelle is full of hickeys, therefore he won't approach her with an apology and pathetic drooling, and I'm way too excited about the opera, which I find quite weird to say. I never thought I'd be that excited about opera, even less going there with a woman.

Honestly, what truly occupies my mind is how Annabelle will react to it. I hope she will like it and just like that doubt is inseminated in my mind. What if it's going to be too much? What if she really dislikes Goethe? Maybe she likes ballets, but as far as operas are concerned she can't stand them!

I consciously calm myself down. Annabelle is a lovely woman with a deep appreciation of culture. Is it going to be too much? Maybe it is, but I can always say that I thought going to the opera would be like going to the ballet when she got me an invitation to it! I can always talk myself out of it and, let's be honest, she will end up going to Faust with me.

And not just that! If I know her, and I think I know her quite well by now, she will put on a very sophisticated and beautiful outfit, style her hair, and add a hint of makeup on her lips and eyelids. I don't have to close my eyes to imagine her. I can see her in a long strapless baby-pink dress of a mermaid shape and a short jacket with lace to cover her shoulders on our way home. She will braid her hair and put it up in a braided bun, and the gloss on her lips, the white eye-shadow and a thin eyeliner will compliment all of her features. She will easily be one of the most beautiful women there whether she does put on a dress like that or if she decides to come to the opera in her jogging outfit.