Chapter 73

After work you rushed back to the apartment - the time crunch was real if you were going to make it to Gemma’s for your 6:30 meetup. The problem was ‘rushing,’ when you were relying on public transit, was mostly just running and then waiting at a bus stop or deciding to take an Uber. And while you certainly weren’t broke, you weren’t exactly swimming in cash working a shit-paying internship and you were now dating.

And dating added up quickly, especially when you were Ubering places.

All your rushing got you home about five minutes earlier than usual, and you entered the apartment to find Mosche sitting on the kitchen counter eating your bag of chips.

“Oh, hey dude,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” you said. “You’re going up for the open mic at Curly’s, right?”

“Yeah, man. I’m supposed to meet Tantric Girl there too. Are you coming out tonight?”

“Yes, and I’m bringing a date,” you said. “Can you please promise me not to try out your crowd work on us? I promise we’ll laugh at all your jokes.”

“Oh, yeah, sure dude,” Mosche said. “Are you bringing that Sabrina girl? She was cute as hell.”

“No, I’m bringing this girl Gemma,” you said, already unbuttoning your office shirt and edging towards the hall and your bedroom for the summer.

“Oh, should I not bring up Sabrina around her? That would be awkward, right?”

“Actually, that’s not a problem,” you said. “Gemma is the girl Sabrina was getting ready for me to go out with on Tuesday.”

“Oooh, cool,” Mosche said. “How’s that ... going?”

“Good,” you said. “Actually, really good, but I gotta go, dude. I’m supposed to be across town in like thirty minutes. I’ll see you at the show.”

“Awesome, dude! Thanks for supporting the art,” Mosche called after you.

It was funny - ever since Sabrina had torn through your wardrobe trying to put together a date outfit on Tuesday you had been judging your own clothes more harshly. You decided to just use the secondary outfit Sabrina had been considering, trusting her judgment for clothes over your own at this point.

Ten minutes after you entered the apartment, you were back out of it and trying not to jog too quickly and break out into a sweat as you headed down the street. You texted Gemma, asking her what colour she was going to wear. She sent you back a picture that looked like she’d zoomed way in on a piece of blue fabric, but you couldn’t even tell if you were looking at a hem or fold or what.

Two blocks over you entered a florist shop and started holding the picture up to the various flowers. One of the workers came over to ask if you needed help, and you ended up explaining the whole thing with the matching flower on your first date with Gemma, and soon you had both workers helping you out as they tittered over how cute you were being.