A Really Nice Girl
2002-07-31 - 5:49 p.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
I had a chat with the desk girl in the gym today. She's a cute blonde girl, tall, but not too tall, great figure. Maybe somewhere around twenty years old, in college, knows her major. Looks like a low maintenance girl. Shy but not timid. Ambitious and intelligent, a girl who'd likely make the mistake of connecting with an unambitous guy because she still doesn't know better. Some never do. She's been on vacation, and I have not been able to give her attention, which is a vice I allow myself. The cute desk girl at the gym always gets way too much attention. I tend not to follow the crowd. But I like her, at least enough to amuse myself with her. "So, Alicia," I started in on her. "You've been gone." "Yes," she said. "Did you go on vacation?" I asked. "Yes," "Where did you go?" "Ohio." "You went to Ohio for a vacation?" "Yes." "Well, I guess that is an exciting destination." "It is." "Lots of thrills to be had in Ohio." "There were: I got a flat tire." "Really." "Yes." "Lots of chills and spills." "Definitely." She seemed a little more...angry than I remembered. Something about her tone of voice and expressions. Either she really missed me, or was ready to strangle me. And I went back to working out. Today is my light day, but I need to take a week off to recharge. I am about two weeks late to do that. So I take another break, and start in again. "Did you go to Cedar Point?" I asked. (cedar point is an amusement park in ohio that draws from surrounding states) "No." she said, smiling at me. "Rock and Roll Hall of fame?" "No." "Pro-Football Hall of Fame?" (that one was for my own pure amusement...for some reason, I dig the way she takes every inane question I ask seriously, giving it thought and consideration it really doesn't deserve, and trying to come up with the correct answer, or rather, what she thinks I want to hear. I was ready to start listing all kinds of places.) "No. I went to camp." She said, finally. "You went to camp." I said. "Yes," "What sort of camp?" I asked. "Church camp." She said. "Church camp." I said, nodding, and mulling this new bit of information over, "So you're like, a really nice girl or something." "Yeah," she said, and then got self-concious about her answer, "I guess. I don't know." I laughed genially and walked away.
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