You Wanna Make Him All Your Own
So, I got a guy's number today. Funny story.
About a week or so ago, my co-worker (and straight female love partner) Rachel and I went to Jim's Steak-Out. (For those of you who aren't from B-Lo, Jim's is the shit. Like... Cookout for Winston-Salem/Greensboro and The Penguin for Charlotte.) So, we roll in and there is this cute guy working the register. Like, boy next door, a little nerdy kinda, but oh-so-charming. So, we got our orders in waited, got our food and walked out. As Rachel is backing out of the parking spot, he comes running out. I'm thinking to myself, "If he asks for my number or gives me his, I'll piss myself." But, no. They forgot to put bacon on my sammich. So, he runs in, fixes it and comes back out, hands me the sammich... and a cookie. I thought that was the end.
Oh, no.
I go back today, on a whim. I mean, honestly, what are the chances that on this particular day, the same employee is going to be working the time that I show up? Well, pretty damn good. He was there. And smiled when I walked in the door. I ordered and thanked him by his name (that was on the recipt). In return, he asked me mine, which I gladly supplied. I waited with my friend Amber for my food and, when I was called, walked up to the counter and shuffled over to him. Conversation ensues as such:
Me: "Would it be presumptuous of me to..."
Him: "To...?"
Me: "Ask for your number?"
Him: "Of course not."
Sometimes I love my unneccesary vocabulary.
About a week or so ago, my co-worker (and straight female love partner) Rachel and I went to Jim's Steak-Out. (For those of you who aren't from B-Lo, Jim's is the shit. Like... Cookout for Winston-Salem/Greensboro and The Penguin for Charlotte.) So, we roll in and there is this cute guy working the register. Like, boy next door, a little nerdy kinda, but oh-so-charming. So, we got our orders in waited, got our food and walked out. As Rachel is backing out of the parking spot, he comes running out. I'm thinking to myself, "If he asks for my number or gives me his, I'll piss myself." But, no. They forgot to put bacon on my sammich. So, he runs in, fixes it and comes back out, hands me the sammich... and a cookie. I thought that was the end.
Oh, no.
I go back today, on a whim. I mean, honestly, what are the chances that on this particular day, the same employee is going to be working the time that I show up? Well, pretty damn good. He was there. And smiled when I walked in the door. I ordered and thanked him by his name (that was on the recipt). In return, he asked me mine, which I gladly supplied. I waited with my friend Amber for my food and, when I was called, walked up to the counter and shuffled over to him. Conversation ensues as such:
Me: "Would it be presumptuous of me to..."
Him: "To...?"
Me: "Ask for your number?"
Him: "Of course not."
Sometimes I love my unneccesary vocabulary.