Mr February
It's Thursday and you've got a date with Mr February.
Mr February is thus called because he looked like he popped out of one of those firemen calenders, floppy hair, deep set eyes and chiseled tanned body.
It happened when you were having one of those days, the ones where you're eyeball steeped in humidity and the dress that you loved went on sale but ran out of your size, you're sitting at the coffee place going through travel pamphlets dreaming of your perfect ski holiday when your fingers make an inexplicable decision to text him. It's one of those random messages and as soon as it's sent out you wish you could take it back. Five minutes of mounting tension later he replies.
Back to Thursday. You can't really decide what to wear but at the same time you can't re bothered. You finally settle on a dressy top paired with cigarette-cut capris and strappy heels. You dab on lipstick but in the elevator you change your mind and wipe it off.
You meet him at a restaurant bar, he's already sitting with a whisky in hand, he's dressed down, jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He stand to greet you, smiling broadly and you exchange hugs. He orders you a Riesling, grinning triumphantly at his ability to remember your usual drink, you don't bother to correct him but as you go to the ladies you tell the waiter to change it to a Chardonnay.
The conversation starts off simply, with "what's going on with you"s, but 4 rounds of drinks later the both of you are engaging in mild flirtation. He bends over to sweep something off your shoulder and deliberately brushes his fingers against your neck. You share a cab home with him and as the meter hits ten dollars you both can't get your hands off of each other and the taxi driver is quietly averting his gaze from the rear view mirror.
The taxi pulls over, it's your place, you try to exit gracefully, with your clutch under your arm, tilting your neck and you somewhat succeed. Mr February thanks you for the night out, flashing you a smile he adds "See you again." You smile back but the both of you know that "again" was arbitrary.
After all February only comes around once a year.
Mr February is thus called because he looked like he popped out of one of those firemen calenders, floppy hair, deep set eyes and chiseled tanned body.
It happened when you were having one of those days, the ones where you're eyeball steeped in humidity and the dress that you loved went on sale but ran out of your size, you're sitting at the coffee place going through travel pamphlets dreaming of your perfect ski holiday when your fingers make an inexplicable decision to text him. It's one of those random messages and as soon as it's sent out you wish you could take it back. Five minutes of mounting tension later he replies.
Back to Thursday. You can't really decide what to wear but at the same time you can't re bothered. You finally settle on a dressy top paired with cigarette-cut capris and strappy heels. You dab on lipstick but in the elevator you change your mind and wipe it off.
You meet him at a restaurant bar, he's already sitting with a whisky in hand, he's dressed down, jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He stand to greet you, smiling broadly and you exchange hugs. He orders you a Riesling, grinning triumphantly at his ability to remember your usual drink, you don't bother to correct him but as you go to the ladies you tell the waiter to change it to a Chardonnay.
The conversation starts off simply, with "what's going on with you"s, but 4 rounds of drinks later the both of you are engaging in mild flirtation. He bends over to sweep something off your shoulder and deliberately brushes his fingers against your neck. You share a cab home with him and as the meter hits ten dollars you both can't get your hands off of each other and the taxi driver is quietly averting his gaze from the rear view mirror.
The taxi pulls over, it's your place, you try to exit gracefully, with your clutch under your arm, tilting your neck and you somewhat succeed. Mr February thanks you for the night out, flashing you a smile he adds "See you again." You smile back but the both of you know that "again" was arbitrary.
After all February only comes around once a year.
