Five minutes.
I was still standing outside, holding Elizabeth's phone, trying to decide my next move, when the Uber came roaring back around the corner.
Lizzy opened the door. "I'm... really embarrassed."
"You're a bit clumsy, aren't you?"
"Socially," she nodded.
"That, too." I handed her phone to her. "It seems like you had other plans, but I really think you should cancel and come upstairs."
"I, uh... No sex...?" she pleaded.
"Just had some. I was thinking coffee. Or a beer."
She climbed out of the car.
#
She sat on the edge of my couch and cried. Not full-on blubber, but just sort of a soft whimper. She stopped to hold up the bottle and nodded.
"Ayinger. Tasty, isn't it?"
She wiped her eyes, then pointed at herself. "I'm awkward. I'm sorry."
"I'm James."
She squinted at me. "Do you have kids?"
"Not that I know of. Why?"
"That was such a dad pun."
"My dad gave me his sense of humor. Said he didn't want it back."
"Oh, My Gawd!"
I sat down on the loveseat opposite the couch. "So, we're in a bar... then we're in an Uber... And things happen... then you're taking off..." I took a sip. "So if I drove, that would've been a meaningless parking lot BJ and a goodnight?"
She nodded.
"Okay, cool. If I were any other guy, that would be the end of a great night."
"No, but you're... you?"
"Exactly." I held out my hands. "Don't get me wrong, I'm perfectly fine with it, but I just got this weird vibe and I just want to make sure you're okay."
She smiled, a little wistful, and took a sip. "I kinda wish we met under different circumstances."
"I liked our circumstances!"
"What I mean is... It's not... First impressions, I guess..."
"Ahh. You..."
She nodded. "I wish I could've come across a little less slutty."
"I'm not one to judge... but you're sitting in my living room, crying, and I have no idea why. Which is why I'm asking if you're okay."
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sort-of breaking up with a guy..."
"Sort of...?"
"Well, he doesn't know yet."
"And you're using me to do it?"
She nodded, then shook her head... then shrugged. "I don't know. It's complicated."
I admit I can be a bit thick at times. "So, if I were to guess, I'd say giving head to another guy is really emphatic way of saying 'we're done'. Big statement kind of thing. Am I close?"
She stared a moment, then shook her head. "No."
"Right, okay. Wouldn't have guessed 'accountant' either, so I'm not very good at reading people."
She took a sip. "I mean, do you really want to hear all this?"
"Yeah! I mean... I went out, had a couple beers, listened to a band, met a girl, got a blow job and got home all before ten. That's a good night! The rest of the night my night is free and you are absolutely fascinating!"
"I'm 'fascinating'?"
"Sure. Cute. You give great head. You're... 'complex'. I'm hooked."
"I'm 'fascinating'. I don't remember a boyfriend ever calling me fascinating before."
"You need to date smarter. Let's get you started on a program."
She snorted. "Oh, my god. You really are a trainer, aren't you?"
I pointed at the bookshelves: besides the shelf of Army operator's manuals, it was all about exercise physiology, kinesiology, physical therapy... "I'm a simple guy."
She stared at the shelves, taking in the titles. She glanced at me and hung her head. "Jesus, of all the guys to have this conversation with."
"Well, outside of a psychologist or a psychiatrist, I'm probably the best possible guy to help you get back on your feet."
"Okay, fine. Fuck it." She titled the bottle back, drained it, and belched. "I didn't really want to break up with him. It's just... now was the time. And you appeared."
"So, clumsy... and confused?"
"I have a bad habit. I go out with a guy for maybe three months and I get, umm... an urge."
"To...?"
"To blow another guy," she sighed. "Any other guy. Somebody not my boyfriend."
"So you get the 'Seven Year Itch' at three months?"
"Ew. Is that like a venereal disease?"
"Some would say. Call it the urge to cheat."
"Oh, then yes. Can I have another beer?"
I popped a second MΓ€rzen and handed it to her.
She put a dent in it then pointed the bottle at me. "I knew it was coming. I was trying not to... then I saw you."
"Thanks?"
"So, it's not like I did it to break up with him, but eventually it comes out that I did it... and they break up with me."
"Interesting." It sounded like some sort of litmus test. Do they care for her enough to forgive her? "Three months?"
"Sometimes six, sometimes four, usually two..."
"How many boyfriends have you cheated on?"
"All of them."
"Hahahaha!" She was serious. "...Oh."
She hung her head again. "Can you give me a minute? I need to call my... about-to-be-ex."