What’s he Playing At? (ha! another pun!)

Posted by Tilia

Guitar Guy is starting to seriously piss me off.

I mean, okay, as a person, I’m generally pissed off by at least a few things at any given time, but this is ridiculous.  The man is managing to both validate me and try to reject me at the same time, and unless I can repeatedly slap him or (preferably) get him into a dark corner and have my wicked way with him, I see no obvious resolution before my departure for the motherland.

Last night, work seeming futile because one of our rare, all-day Florida thunderstorms was in the works (usually there’s 20 minutes of apocalyptic downpour, complete with hail and lightening, and then we’re back to tropical blue skies with very little fuss), we all went in with low expectations for business and a laid back demeanor.

While chatting at the bar with my roommate and the hot gay bartender about his recent tryst with an ex, whom he now knows is in a relationship, I pointed out to him that his ex’s new beau is in no way his responsibility.  To which the roommate responded, laughingly, “Yeah, this from the girl who wants to hook up with someone in a –.”

And then we were cut off.  By Guitar Guy.  Rounding the corner.  Awkward.  He definitely knew something was up as we all fell silent and looked at him expectantly until he expressed a want for a bottle of water, which I was made to retrieve.

Anyway, as the night progressed, Guitar Guy continued his futile attempts to distance himself from me, by trying to not let me catch him watching me.  Now, okay, honestly, Guitar Guy, if you’re really trying to distance yourself, wouldn’t you just stop staring all together?

It got so ridiculous that, not only were other co-workers noticing, with laughs, that as soon as I’d glance at the stage, he’d quickly jerk his focus down to the floor and stay there for several minutes, but guests started to pick up on it too.

Around 2/3 of the way through the night, he almost slammed into me as I turned away from a table, and he quickly said he was sorry.  I’m not sure why, but my reply was a snippy, “Are you?”

I’m not sure why I said it.  All I know is that as I walked away, I heard him say “Yes?” in a puzzled sort of way.

I guess I should be over it, and maybe I would be if he weren’t so cripplingly touchable, and if there weren’t these moments that broke away from the irritation.  Last night, for example, after ringing in another 17 beers for my drunken table of Brits, I turned from the computer to search for someone to help me take down some garbage bags, and unexpectedly caught his eye, as he’d been intently watching me from the stage.

The song being performed at the moment was “I can’t make you love me,” which, while lyrically inappropriate, was tonally just fine.

My smile immediately slipped from my face and we remained trained on each other for a good fifteen seconds or so until, though it seemed to pain him, he forced himself to look away.  I was unexpectedly jolted by this, deep in my stomach, and I’m not really sure what it means.  The moment itself was intense beyond description.

Aside from getting a light up tee shirt that flashes the word “Sex?” when I push a button and using it on him every time no one else is looking until he cracks, I can’t think of a good way to resolve this in a quick and efficient manner.

He needs to get out of his relationship, as it clearly isn’t fulfilling him.  And then he needs to come over, and fulfill me.

~ by Tilia on July 16, 2008.