emily is a hairdresser, excuse me, hairSTYLIST for toni and guy.
she is the absulute picture of beauty.
i'll start with her smile.
no, no, i'll skip descriptions and get straight to the story.
but man, does she ever have a smile.
it perfectly compliments her green eyes and red curly hair.
i have often heard people say that they melt when the meet so and so, but have never understood the expression.
that is, until emily.
i am sure that if i could see the inner workings of my sould when she smiles at me, i would see a whole lot of mass become liquid. maybe something akin to how chocolate is made.
a week ago she came up to me while i was at work, and with that smile, said
"hey, i've got a question for you."
my immediate thought was
"yes, say yes, no matter what the question is say yes."
"whats that?" i said
"its an interogative statement used to acquire knowledge."
she didnt actually say that, but wouldnt it be great if she did?
what she actually asked was for me to be a hair model for her.
she needed to demonstrate to somebody important that she knew how to do some sort of cut.
i agreed, fearing that the smile would go away if i didnt.
and i needed that smile.
it is my present drug of choice.
"great" she said "next tuesday? six o clock?"
that was today.
that was a few hours ago.
this was my experience.
i viewed this evening, not as a date, but as a prequel to date. a "if things go well i may get a date" date. needless to say i was nervous.
especially since i had no idea what was going to be done to my hair.
she was waiting behind the front counter when i arrived. she flashed that smile and i lapsed into an endorphin induced coma, i awoke sometime later to find us making small talk before the very important person she was doing this for showed up.
she owns a pet snake.
she listens to music i have never heard of.
she is much, much cooler than i am.
i felt my wit disarm.
i was left powerless and compliant.
i found myself praying to the gods of multiple religions:
"oh please let me be funny. oh please, if any one of you is real, make me funny."
the haircut began and my main observation of it was that it was just like a date except that the girl could blatantly point out all that she finds wrong with your appearance.
apparently, i dont use a good shampoo.
i have mad scientest eye brows.
i look like i am eighteen.
i have a bald spot.
but, at the same time, i look kind of like james dean.
(yeah, i dont see the resemblance either. but i dont care, she was smiling when she said it)
the very important person showed up, combed through my hair and said it looked nice.
emily smiled.
as she was cleaning up all of my hair (and i do mean all of my hair. its pretty damn short now.) she asked me
"so what are your plans for the evening?"
THINK, DAMN IT, THINK
"oh, i dont know. you?"
"oh nothing, my roomate is coming up to the shop and i am supposed to give her an up-do, but then after that nothing."
ASK HER OUT, ASK HER OUT
"oh"
god, your pathetic
she fixed my collar, and walked me to the door.
as i was leaving she said
"hey, you should give me a call if your not doing anything." handing me a yellow post it not with the name emily and the most beautiful sequence of seven numbers i have ever seen written on it.
and that brings me to where i am.
three hours later.
sitting in front of my computer.
staring at a yellow paper square.
i think i'm going to throw up.
1:27 a.m. - 2004-09-14
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
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