a hot
dog cart. It's like an E! True Hollywood Story."
"If nothing else, my dad gave me a strong work
ethic. Any job was one worth doing right." He leaned
forward and grabbed a bag. "Here, I got you this, too"
"More hot dogs?" I said hopefully, having almost
polished off my first one. I reached into the bag and
pulled out a starched New York Mets jersey.
"I wanted to give you one of those foam finger thingies, but they were fresh out" He glanced down, looking rather shy.
"Wow. Wow." I shook my head in disbelief. "Get
ready to be surprised again, Michael, because I'm
speechless."
"I'm glad."
"Glad I'm speechless?"
"No, no, glad you like it. Do you have one?"
"Uh, no. The only thing I have is a faded National
League Champions T-shirt from when they played the
Yanks in the Subway Series." I slipped the jersey on
over my red v-neck shirt. "How much do I owe you?"
"Are you kidding? Nothing. Consider it a one-month
anniversary gift."
"A what?"
"Um, uh, one month anniversary of the start of the
Devin account," he stammered. "Not our anniversary,
no. That would just be, well, odd" I watched Michael
stare straight ahead at the pitcher's mound, shoulders
slightly slumped.
I didn't get it. We were talking, laughing, having a great time, and then he made that off-the-cuff comment. What did it mean? Why did I care? I chewed my
nails haphazardly. Needless to say, my enthusiasm for
the game, and for Michael, waned.
"Are you interested in him? Even a little bit?" Anna
and I walked briskly through Central Park. She was her
trendy little self with black yoga pants, a black knit
tank top-and the only redhead I know who could pull
off a pink bandana.
"No, and you know how I know? I ate two hot dogs
in front of him with the works. Did you hear me? Two.
And I didn't even flinch. Now, if this were a date, I
would have sat politely and pretended that hot dogs
made me sick. Besides, he made some off-handed comment that I can't get out of my head"
"Uh, oh. Was it an innocuous comment that you interpreted as hostile?"
"Hostile's not the word. Just perplexing. Things
seemed fine. He bought me a jersey and said it was for-"
Anna halted. "Hold up. He bought you a jersey? That's certainly something above and beyond the call
of duty"
"What do you mean?"
Anna shook her head, her foolish apprentice not yet
as wise as she. "Michael, who you've only known for
what, six, seven months, bought you a jersey of your favorite sports team"
My forehead crinkled as I tried to process what exactly had happened between the two of us the day before at the ballgame. "He was just being nice," I limply
suggested.
"Holding doors open is nice. Taking you to a Mets
game is nice. Buying you a jersey? I dunno, sounds like
someone's got a bit of a crush on you."
"Wait a sec," I raised a hand as we followed a curve
on one of the walking trails. "Ain't nobody crushing on
no one. Right after he got me the jersey, that's when he
got weird." And I told Anna about the anniversary
comment.
Anna shook her head. "Poor guy"
"What?" I exclaimed. "He's the one who's the
weirdo here, and you're giving him the `poor guy'
treatment?"
"Don't you see? He was nervous. He was probably
just trying to cover up his feelings."
"Sure, feelings of regret and remorse for inviting me
to the game in the first place"
Anna pointed a stern finger at me. "Uh, uh, uh, none
of this negative self-talk. Besides, I'll just get the inside
scoop from Miranda," Anna offered casually.
"Please, don't bother."
"You're at least keeping the jersey, right?"
"I may find him somewhat bizarre, but I'm not stupid!"
We picked up our brisk pace again. "Kate, I really
don't think Michael is a bad guy. Maybe he's just not
good around women. Do you know his dating history?"
"He briefly mentioned an ex-fiancee a while back,
and we shared horror dating stories. Oh, and that's another thing. He gave me this weird look and said that
maybe his dating luck
dog cart. It's like an E! True Hollywood Story."
"If nothing else, my dad gave me a strong work
ethic. Any job was one worth doing right." He leaned
forward and grabbed a bag. "Here, I got you this, too"
"More hot dogs?" I said hopefully, having almost
polished off my first one. I reached into the bag and
pulled out a starched New York Mets jersey.
"I wanted to give you one of those foam finger thingies, but they were fresh out" He glanced down, looking rather shy.
"Wow. Wow." I shook my head in disbelief. "Get
ready to be surprised again, Michael, because I'm
speechless."
"I'm glad."
"Glad I'm speechless?"
"No, no, glad you like it. Do you have one?"
"Uh, no. The only thing I have is a faded National
League Champions T-shirt from when they played the
Yanks in the Subway Series." I slipped the jersey on
over my red v-neck shirt. "How much do I owe you?"
"Are you kidding? Nothing. Consider it a one-month
anniversary gift."
"A what?"
"Um, uh, one month anniversary of the start of the
Devin account," he stammered. "Not our anniversary,
no. That would just be, well, odd" I watched Michael
stare straight ahead at the pitcher's mound, shoulders
slightly slumped.
I didn't get it. We were talking, laughing, having a great time, and then he made that off-the-cuff comment. What did it mean? Why did I care? I chewed my
nails haphazardly. Needless to say, my enthusiasm for
the game, and for Michael, waned.
"Are you interested in him? Even a little bit?" Anna
and I walked briskly through Central Park. She was her
trendy little self with black yoga pants, a black knit
tank top-and the only redhead I know who could pull
off a pink bandana.
"No, and you know how I know? I ate two hot dogs
in front of him with the works. Did you hear me? Two.
And I didn't even flinch. Now, if this were a date, I
would have sat politely and pretended that hot dogs
made me sick. Besides, he made some off-handed comment that I can't get out of my head"
"Uh, oh. Was it an innocuous comment that you interpreted as hostile?"
"Hostile's not the word. Just perplexing. Things
seemed fine. He bought me a jersey and said it was for-"
Anna halted. "Hold up. He bought you a jersey? That's certainly something above and beyond the call
of duty"
"What do you mean?"
Anna shook her head, her foolish apprentice not yet
as wise as she. "Michael, who you've only known for
what, six, seven months, bought you a jersey of your favorite sports team"
My forehead crinkled as I tried to process what exactly had happened between the two of us the day before at the ballgame. "He was just being nice," I limply
suggested.
"Holding doors open is nice. Taking you to a Mets
game is nice. Buying you a jersey? I dunno, sounds like
someone's got a bit of a crush on you."
"Wait a sec," I raised a hand as we followed a curve
on one of the walking trails. "Ain't nobody crushing on
no one. Right after he got me the jersey, that's when he
got weird." And I told Anna about the anniversary
comment.
Anna shook her head. "Poor guy"
"What?" I exclaimed. "He's the one who's the
weirdo here, and you're giving him the `poor guy'
treatment?"
"Don't you see? He was nervous. He was probably
just trying to cover up his feelings."
"Sure, feelings of regret and remorse for inviting me
to the game in the first place"
Anna pointed a stern finger at me. "Uh, uh, uh, none
of this negative self-talk. Besides, I'll just get the inside
scoop from Miranda," Anna offered casually.
"Please, don't bother."
"You're at least keeping the jersey, right?"
"I may find him somewhat bizarre, but I'm not stupid!"
We picked up our brisk pace again. "Kate, I really
don't think Michael is a bad guy. Maybe he's just not
good around women. Do you know his dating history?"
"He briefly mentioned an ex-fiancee a while back,
and we shared horror dating stories. Oh, and that's another thing. He gave me this weird look and said that
maybe his dating luck
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