Could the Mexican be in heaven? Not that close yet, our little antihero is having a little trouble in paradiso. But who’s causing it? An unfortunate surprise rocks the love boat, almost literally! What could it be this time? Read on and bring your net…
February 23, 2010 11:38 AM
I didn’t know if I should text her. La Belle Juliette. I mean, I wanted to. But I realized that I was coming across as too eager. Never a good thing. So I thought I better calm it down. Still, I painfully stared at my phone. Hoping that maybe see would text me first. One day, two days go by. Nothing.
I was trying to be patient. So I went for a walk. But she was occupying more and more of my mind. My phone was itching in my pocket. I tried to change my thinking. I focused my creative spirit on my new project, this made me go in the direction of the Seine, that’s where the project will be, maybe I could work on inspiration instead of wasting my energy on a girl. I shouldn’t say that. Juliette is worth the thoughts, but I can’t abandon my projects.
I was deep in concentration on the project, then as I was getting close to the river my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I stopped dead in my tracks. Damn, it wasn’t Juliette it was just M. She was actually down at the project site. I guess we could at least get some work done. I had my sketchbook out and was trying to listen to what she was saying. I suppose I must’ve been checking my phone a lot cuz M. suddenly flipped on me. Shouting and stamping around, demanding to know who I was expecting a call from. I tried to defend myself, but she went totally ballistic. Man. Not the kinda person to make angry. I’d never seen that side of her. I thought I was calming her down, but instead she got even more worked up, she tore my phone out of my hand and flung it viciously in the scene. Fuck, she’d really gone too far. Then she stormed off.
I tried to fish it out of the water desperately. I could see it still. Shit. I wanted to kill M. But there was no hope, even with the bag on a stick/net I’d made. Just my fucking luck. I wanted to cry. All those contacts! All those girls! Juliette! The only good news was that I knew where J. lived so I could certainly find her with some more perseverance. Maybe M. did it on purpose. I didn’t think I could talk to her again. In fact, I stayed over at E.’s feigning fatigue until I can decide what to do. I’m always put back in some way, challenge after stupid challenge. But I would win.