Today was the big day. I met with New Girl this afternoon to work on choreographing a dance together. We texted throughout the week to arrange things. She works at a dance studio, and she said she’d get the keys from the owner so we could use it for an hour or two this Sunday when nobody is there. Good deal.
It was a bit of a drive from where I lived, but I didn’t mind. This was something I’d dreamed of for the longest time – finding a girl to dance with. I still wasn’t 100 percent sure whether her intentions were strictly dance-related or a deeper interest in me. All indications seemed to point to the latter, though.
So there I was, driving down the street this afternoon, scouring the storefronts for her dance studio. I belatedly noticed it as I drove past it. Whoops. I turned around and came back and parked on the opposite side. That’s when I noticed she was parked out front, taking something out of the backseat of her car. The bottom dropped out of my stomach and my heart started pounding. “Oh God, please don’t let that be what I think it is…” I silently prayed.
She had a baby with her.
What. The. Fuck.
Sigh. I knew this was too good to be true. I knew there had to be a catch.
In case any of you have missed it or are new to my blog, I… well… strongly dislike children. I give them a wide berth whenever possible. Every day I wake up and give thanks that – out of a family of seven kids – I only have one niece and nephew, one of whom is already 18.
I slumped all the way down in my seat and watched as she disappeared inside with the baby. All manner of crazy thoughts ran through my head, the first of which was to put the key back in the ignition and floor the gas pedal and immediately put as much distance between me and this place as possible. But I couldn’t do that. Besides, I’d already come all this way. Might as well do what I came here to do. How that was going to happen with a baby in the picture remained to be seen.
I grabbed my backpack and crossed the street with a heavy step. I went through the doorway and there was Baby sitting in the corner as New Girl arranged a temporary barricade around him.
“Oh, good, you’re here! Would you mind watching him for a second while I run out and get his playpen?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure!” I said. She dashed back to her car, and I was stricken with abject terror as I looked at the baby. He sat on the floor, staring back at me. Please don’t poop or cry or move or do anything… I silently pleaded. Thankfully she was back within 30 seconds with the playpen and had it set up in a jiffy.
“I didn’t know you had a kid,” I said nonchalantly.
“Yeah, I couldn’t find anyone to watch him this afternoon, so I had to bring him along. I hope you don’t mind,” she said.
“Not at all,” I said as convincingly as possible. Mentally I was screaming.
“He’s a year old. His name’s Liam.”
“Liam… a good Irish name. I approve,” I chuckled. “He’s cute,” I added helpfully. That was no lie.
“Thanks!” she beamed at me.
“So… uh, where do you want to do this?” I inquired.
“Oh we can go into the practice room right next door. He’ll be fine out here.” We went into the other studio and sat down to change our shoes. We hadn’t discussed it yet, so I figured now was a good time to bring it up:
“So what did you want to do?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” she laughed. I rolled my eyes as she bent down to tie her shoelaces. Really?
“Well, this was your idea – I thought you had something in mind already that you wanted to work on.”
“Haha, nope. But let’s just see what we can come up with!” she said brightly. Ever prepared, I pulled out my CD book (yes, some people still have CDs in 2015) and we thumbed through my music collection looking for something good. Eventually we settled on a song and after an hour we had the start of a new dance. Very cool. And baby Liam didn’t make a peep the entire time. I was immensely thankful that I was saved from having to interact with him in any way. Finally we started packing things up and I helped her carry all her baby shit out to the car.
“I noticed a cafe down the street… do you want to do lunch?” I asked despite myself.
“I’m sorry, I can’t… I really should get this little guy home,” she said. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. I had already kicked myself for asking. Not sure why I did – I guess I just wanted to keep up appearances and not have her think I was child-hater. “But this was a lot of fun, we definitely need to keep going with this,” she added.
“Definitely,” I agreed. “You want to get together again next Sunday?”
“Next Sunday is no good for me, but the Sunday after that I’m free!”
“Then let’s do that Sunday then!” She agreed, and we hugged and went our separate ways. I might consider a purely sex-based relationship with her, on the slim chance that she’s interested in something like that. But there was no way I was interested in anything serious with this chick, not with a kid in the picture. Kids will never be in my future. Not ever.
Why am I seeing her again, then? Like I said, I’ve always wanted to find a girl to dance with. So there’s that, if nothing else. It’s nice to meet someone with a common interest like that. And who knows where this could lead? Maybe I’ll end up hooking up with one of her cute, single dancer friends. Not to mention that she has three younger, hotter, childless sisters (I looked them all up on Facebook).
But in all likelihood… this looks like yet another dead end.
It’s been a month since my birthday. I’m eleven months from becoming a 31yo virgin. But more excitingly I’ve just marked my two-year blog anniversary! And here I am – 42,500 blog views and 275 followers later. Sadly many of my original readers and bloggers I’ve followed have found significant others and moved on with their lives and left WordPress behind. In any case I want to extend a hearty thanks to all those who have read and commented, and who continue to do so. Your input is always valued, even if I like to argue with it at times.