I Stared at the Closed Door
There was something about her, always wanting to help that drew me to her instantly. Her diligence in her work, but her carefree and lighthearted attitude towards everything else. She was always clean in her scrubs and was eager to help both her patients and their owners. Her hair, that chocolate-auburn, would fall neatly around her face, and she seemed to mess with it as a nervous habit, pulling it up, taking it back down, twisting it into a bun and then ripping the band back out. It was cute, it signified that she was thinking. She was perfect. Everyone at the office adored her and I was just another face with a sick dog, I presumed.
Scruffy was sick, per usual, he always ate out of the garbage when I wasn’t looking. I would yell at him and he would get sick, schedule a trip to the vet which cost me too much, and then he would go and do it all over again. I believe that he knew that I was jonesing for his vet and that she could quite possibly have a crush on me too. I started wanting Scruffy to eat out of the trash, or run into the glass door again, or just look shaken up. It sounds awful, but there was no reason to go into a vet’s office unless your pet is sick. Scruffy pulled through and as I watched him eat out of the trash, I grabbed my keys and we left.
She smiled and shook her head at my shaggy dog, laughing at the fact that he just can’t help himself can he! I wasn’t really paying attention for I was lost in those green-blue eyes again.
She examined him and then told me that he’ll probably sleep this one off. I nodded, realizing that my window of opportunity was closing extremely fast, faster than I anticipated. I pulled out my signature move I perfected from freshman year of college. Putting my hand behind my neck, flexing that bicep slightly, I asked her out for coffee later. I hate coffee but it seemed right. She perked up, probably shocked, then agreed. I was on cloud nine.
On the way home, Scruffy being my main wing man in the passenger seat, I sped through to the gas station. I couldn’t believe my luck and how I had just scored with her. I needed to test this. I ran inside the little station, pulled out a ten and bought some lottery tickets, stupid I know now because I didn’t win a single thing, but I didn’t care.
Our date went great and so did the next one after that. She was exactly like how she was in the office. Diligent and carefree, an interesting combination, but it sparked my heart. By the sixth date, she wanted to take things to the next level and I was all for that.
However, everything kind of changed on that date. I started to realize that this girl, my girl I hoped to think, wasn’t really as perfect as I thought. She had a flaw, and it was a doozy. She never shut up. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I think I was just still in beer-goggle mode and in love with the fact that she agreed to go out with me, and she was hot.
But on that sixth date, I noticed it. We were getting ready to fall into each others arms, it was definitely going to happen and I was stoked. She quickly excused herself to use my bathroom and I thought prime opportunity to get out of my work clothes and into bed. I forgot to warn her that the door sticks a little when trying to get out of the bathroom. Well she was having the hardest time, shaking the knob and banging. I was laughing at the situation, trying to help her, since this has happened to me before too, but then she went off.
“Why won’t this door open? I wonder if it’s about the hinges. You know that hinges were invented in 1763? Yeah, a blacksmith decided that doors needed hinges and viola! Hinges were born. I bet it’s the hinges, I mean look at them! They are totally not the right color they are supposed to be. When was your house built? Do you know when the door was put in? Is it new? It doesn’t look new so I hope it’s not new, just look at these hinges! So not new. Well what should we do? Do you have tools somewhere? I could try to use this toothbrush, but I doubt it will get us very far!..….”
I stared at the closed door.