My friends and I (faceless friends, whom I have never met/have yet to meet?)get out of a car and walk through a parking lot towards the bar/club where we are headed. We are laughing and talking. I am on the outside of the group. Suddenly, in slow motion I turn my head and there he is, gazing at me: a tall, slender and dark-headed man in his mid-twenties. I smile at him and wave. "Hey," he calls out to me, "You're her. You're the girl I've been dreaming about. My soulmate." I suddenly break away from my friends and walk towards him. "Yeah, I guess I am," I reply, "Nice to meet you finally." We shake hands.
This is one of many countless dreams I've had of the same guy since I was 10. I had this one last night. Weird, huh? And I am one of those people that don't really believe in "soulmates." I think it's, well, lame. I just wish the dude would get on with it and meet me, then!
Anyway, on to the Warren-Kissing-Me details.
Thursday night, Warren decided he wanted to have a keg party at the apartment to "celebrate being single," as he called it. (I think he had it to have a legitimate excuse to drink and mope over Jen.) Anyway, Patrick and I decided to go over for a little while. Well, we got there around 9:30 and there were already like 30 people standing around, drinking. Warren staggered up to us and handed us each a plastic cup. "Glad you came! Now get some beer!" he shouted gleefully. Obviously, Warren was already smashed.
Patrick saw someone he knew from somewhere and decided to go over and talk while I curiously looked around for Jen, wondering if she had shown up.
Someone then tapped me on the shoulder and I naturally spun around.
"Hi," said Warren, and then he bent down and kissed me.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time." And then he walked off.
I was so taken aback that I just stood there looking around me to see if anyone had noticed. No one seemed to.
Patrick was way over on the other side of the room. I slowly made my way over to him and stood quietly while he and some guy talked about some mutual professor. When they finally seemed to be wrapping up the conversation, I asked him if he wanted to go.
"Um, yeah I guess. Why, what's wrong?"
"No-nothing, babe. It's just kinda hot in here and I don't really know anyone."
We made our way to the door and Patrick asked me if I wanted to say goodbye to Warren.
"No! Why would I!? He wouldn't even remember if I did, you know?? I mean, he is so drunk!"
Patrick looked at me a little funny and then we left.
We decided to walk back to my apartment because the weather was so nice. Halfway there, we stopped and sat on a bench on a park. Everything was quiet until I finally managed to speak.
"Patrick, Warren kissed me."
He jumped away from me like he had just found out I contracted SARS.
"What?! Just now? When?!"
"Yeah, at the party tonight. I was walking around looking for people I might know when he came out of nowhere and kissed me!"
"That's fucking unbelievable! That asshole apparently wants me to kick his ass, huh?! Damnit, Elaine, why didn't you tell me sooner? It doesn't matter because I'm going back there..." he started trudging the direction we just came from like a mad bull about to fight for his territory.
"Patrick, Patrick, please! Stop! He was very drunk, he didn't know what he was doing, it could've been anyone standing there! Goddamnit Patrick, I am not going to be happy with you at all if you do this!"
Finally he calmed down. "I don't want other guys...on you," he said breathlessly.
"Well, normally they wouldn't be, but he didn't know what was going on. You have my permission to talk to him, Civially, tomorrow, when he is sober, okay?"
On Friday afternoon, Patrick went over there and he said that Warren acted like he didn't remember it at all.
(Thanks Warren, I guess kissing me isn't an unforgettable experience after all.)
*elaine*
p.s. FIY, Warren also does NOT fit the description of the earlier mentioned "soulmate." Byebye.