Trying to order the most sophisticated drink you can think of, you find yourself blurting out "I'll have a screwdriver, please." Then realizing that a combination of vodka and orange juice was less than memorable, you try to add a bit of flair to your request. "...with a good splash of grenadine, if you've got it."
With her back turned, you force as much Miller as you can down your throat, then realize you won't finish it in time. Not wanting to look like a geek who can't finish a simple beer, you hide it in Monica's media cabinet, behind a row of DVDs. You make a note to yourself that you must remember to retrieve it later.
"There you go, vodka sunrise" Monica hands you your drink, and you simply stare at it. With you sitting on the floor, Monica has to bend over considerably to hand the drink to you, and you don't want to make an ass of yourself by staring at her tits again. Yet, it seems to that she's almost bending over too much - hers is an exaggerated pose, seemingly performed more to show you her cleavage than to hand you a simple drink. Your hand has still yet to move to accept the drink.
"Jesus, Evan. Just get your look and take your drink already! I'm not standing like this all day!"
You snatch the drink from her hand. "I wasn't looking, at mean, I wasn't looking at your... it's just that you were bent over at a weird angle, and I was trying to be polite."
"Uh huh." Monica settles in on the floor next to you. "And what about before? Was I bent over at a weird angle then too?"
You cannot respond to her, and take a sip of your drink. "So - vodka sunrise, huh? I didn't know this had a name."
Monica's words come fast. She doesn't seem to want to change the conversation. "Well, it doesn't, but the same thing with the tequila is a tequila sunrise, so it makes sense. Anyway, look, Evan. You are polite, and that's great. I really think it's a wonderful quality in you, but if you find yourself staring at my tits, I can handle that. It's sort of flattering. Just don't lie about it afterwards, okay?"
"Okay." You respond, meekly.
She kisses you on the forehead. "Good boy. Now I need a drink for myself."
Spending time in the room, you realize that the drama people are a very close knit group. You're a bit of a wallflower (which isn't unusual), but you don't feel unwelcome. In the middle of conversations, Monica looks over at you every once in a while and smiles, and you feel soft and warm.
The other thing you learn about drama people is that they all seem to be professional drinkers. One after another, they saunter over to the bar, making more and more ridiculous concoctions, then imbibing them as they share in laughs and inside jokes. In fact, it's rare that the bar area doesn't have at least one person by it making a new drink for themselves. You take all this in, finally finishing your vodka sunrise.
You slink over to Monica to ask her to make you another - for some reason, you don't feel comfortable enough to make one yourself."
"Monica..." You manage to get out.
"Hang on a sec, Evan." Monica interrupts you. "I wanna do something first." |