This Time

maybe it was the way she looked at him from across the hazy heat filled clutter of laughing fools holding cigarettes and on the verge of puking or screwing depending on what felt more right.

"You good, bud?"
"Couldn't be better, Dude. Couldn't be better."
"Who are you looking at? [Turns over his shoulder] OH. Out of your league sir."
"Yeah well.."
"No, seriously, dude. I am not going through it again. Every time you see a girl like that you get this that look. Yeah. That one!"
"She's not like the others..."
"She's exactly like the others! Psyche major and completely unforgiving to assholes. You just know she's here with some monster of a dude. That pretty face will tear you apart. Remember Alderaan man, Alderaan!"
"She looked at me though... She's still looking at me."
"She's bored! Bra... Wait. Bra? Did I actually..."
"Dude. Here have a beer."
"No dammit. I can't let you go over there. Not again. Not this time."
"I'll give you my joint."
"God dammit..."
"I love you dude. Don't worry. She's different."

You can't help but assure things will be different with her, but then you get 'there' and all the familiar tastes are running around like a thousand fat naked women from some bizarre and wonderful romantic painting. It's useless making yourself feel comfortable about yakking bullshit. Things trace well that way, but isn't it better when you really meet someone special at the time their guard it up and down at the same time? The genuine moment of "Hey, let's pretend things are different between us and let's not pretend to be ourselves. I don't think I surprise myself nearly enough because that voice of calm is to pestering to let me feel a little more free even with a glass of scotch in hand.

Not this time.