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He mulled things over for a few moments before saying, “Here’s what I think. This guy you just met isn’t your type anyway, right? If he’s not someone you’d see yourself with long-term, maybe that takes the pressure off. Could you work out a friends-with-benefits type of arrangement and just have some fun, instead of thinking of it as a potential relationship? That might actually be the perfect way to ease yourself back out into the dating world, while you work on getting over your misplaced guilt.”
“Maybe.”
After a pause, he asked, “Should I call Linda? My wife is way better at giving advice than I am.”
“No, don’t do that. I’ll figure this out.”
A deep voice asked, “Figure what out?”
I hadn’t noticed our friend and coworker Heath entering the kitchen, and now he was watching us curiously as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Of course, Malone instantly blabbed about what I’d just told him by saying, “Dylan met a guy, and I was trying to give him advice.”
Heath’s brows shot toward his hairline. We always jokingly called him the Viking, because he was big and blond with long, wavy hair, which he wore in a man bun when he was at work. “Good for you, buddy,” he said, as he slapped my back. “It’s about time you started dating again. Don’t listen to Malone, though. He gives terrible advice.”
Malone started to protest, but then he admitted, “Yeah, I do. So, help him out, Heath. You’re the king of casual dating. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve dated half the population of San Francisco, so what can you tell our friend here?”
Just then, Loretta joined us in the kitchen. Our shift leader was a strong Black woman who was as no-nonsense as her shaved head, and she asked, “Is Heath giving Dylan dating advice? That’s a terrible idea, unless we’re trying to turn him into a huge man-whore. No offense, Heath.”
Heath shrugged and said, “None taken.”
Loretta asked, “Why does Dylan need dating advice?”
“He met someone online and made out with him at a party last night. Now he doesn’t know what to do,” Malone explained.
“Call him and ask him out,” Loretta said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“You know it’s more complicated than that,” Malone said in a loud whisper, as if maybe I wouldn’t hear him from two feet away. Then he turned to me and asked, “Where’d you leave it with this guy, D?”
“I sent him a message before work.”
Heath asked, “Did he respond?”
“I don’t know.”
“Check your messages,” Malone said. “We need to know if this guy got back to you. If he’s not interested, then we’re getting ourselves all worked up for nothing.”
“I’m cooking dinner.”
“I can keep an eye on the chowder while it simmers.” Malone picked up a wooden spoon and gave the pot a stir to illustrate his point. “Go see if he replied to you, then report back.”
I tried to argue, but it was three against one. Finally, I sighed and pulled my phone from my pocket, then took a seat at the long table beside the open kitchen and navigated to Lark’s fan page.
It turned out he had replied to the message I’d sent about being the guy at the party. He’d written: OMG!!! I can’t believe that was you! Wait, are you being serious or making a joke? Sometimes I can’t tell, especially in a text. Were you really the guy I kissed at midnight?
I answered with: Yes, that was really me. You’d mentioned giving me your number so we could move from here to regular texting, do you still want to do that?
He sent me his phone number about five seconds later, so I clicked out of the fan site and texted: Hi, this is Dylan.
Lark replied: Hi Dylan! This is all just awesome! That was followed by five lines of various happy emojis, ending with an eggplant.
A second text popped up, which said: Oops, sorry about sending you the dick emoji. I got over-excited.
A third message appeared a moment later: I don’t mean I got a boner by texting you. I just got carried away with the emojis.
When I chuckled, Heath said, “Awwww.”
I looked up and found my coworkers lined up at the counter, watching me like I was their favorite TV show. I frowned at them, then turned back to my phone and wrote: I’m at work, so I should go. I just wanted to say hi, and I hope we can talk soon.
He replied: For sure. When do you get off work?
