“I decided to take it on a whim, thought it would be fun,” I answer. He doesn’t need to know about my lacking love life or how an action movie was my inspiration.
“What about you?” I ask.
“I actually took karate when I was a kid; worked my way up to a green belt, but then stopped. Got caught up in school, sports, and stuff. I thought it would be good to try again. Unfortunately, this is a different type of martial arts and they make you start again from the bottom. Kind of humbling. I mean, did you see that eight-year-old black belt in the earlier class?”
“No, I ran late.”
“Oh, that’s right. I saw you come in.”
Wait, he noticed?
I am surprised at how easy our conversation flows; I tend to clam up whenever I get nervous, only with Logan I feel unusually comfortable.
“You’ve hardly had any of your smoothie,” Logan says as he sucks through his straw trying to get the remaining portion at the bottom of his cup.
“Oh, I just drink slowly,” I reply, not divulging the truth. I had ordered a green spinach smoothie with apples, flax seeds, honey, and chia seeds – whatever they are – and it was not tasty at all. It was my attempt to appear health-conscious when what I really wanted to order was the banana, strawberry, and chocolate smoothie.
“Do you not like it?” Logan asks motioning to my barely-sipped smoothie. “You should be careful with those; they can go right through you.”
There is a two-second delay before it registers what he means. “Oh, right. I’ll be careful,” I say embarrassed by the thought.
“So, would you want to go out to dinner sometime?” Logan asks.
Did he just ask me out?
“Dinner?” I ask.
“Yes, how about later this week?
“Sure,” I say giving him my cell number upon his request.
“I’ll make sure it’s a night we don’t have class, that way we don’t smell,” Logan says with a laugh as we walk out of the shop.
I should be happy—a really hot guy just asked me out on a date. Only I am too preoccupied with his last statement, ‘so we don’t smell’. Was he referring to both of us, or did he mean me?
...
5
Anticipation
Heinz Ketchup Commercial, Circa: 1978. Anticipation. It’s making me wait . . . The song “Anticipation” was written and performed by Carly Simon and used in the iconic Heinz ketchup commercial. In an interview, Carly confessed to writing it as she was waiting for a very-late Cat Stevens to come over for dinner.
TODAY IS TND, short for The Next Day—Kaitlyn and I made up that term to reference the day after a date or being asked out—a day which should be glorious but instead is torturous.
Why? Because TND involves the three Ws: Wait, Wonder, and Worry. Will he call? Why hasn’t he called? Did I blow it? These are the questions you ask yourself, no matter how calm and collected you appear on the outside. The questions gnaw at you throughout the day, no matter how hard you try to put them out of your mind. And come nightfall, if you still haven’t heard from your so-called suitor, you think the absolute worst—that it’s over and you’ve been blown off. Which could be the truth – and a lot of times it is – but not always.
This particular TND makes me realize one thing—that I never got Logan’s last name. I realize this when I try to Google him, my typical go-to pastime on TND. Ugh. I will have to default to chocolate.
“Why hasn’t he called?” I ask Kaitlyn. She knows that the only acceptable answer is “he will”.
“It’s only been one day, he’s probably trying to figure out his schedule,” she adds.
I know that Kaitlyn is right. Besides, we have class together the next day and I will see him then. That thought comforts me . . . for about ten minutes until the thought of seeing him the next day turns me into more of a nervous wreck.
HAVING A WORK-HUSBAND has its perks, such as the ability to get a male’s perspective. According to Marcus, I need to – and I quote – “chill the hell out and relax.” Unquote. I guess he is right. Why do we women allow ourselves to get so worked up over guys? I mean are they really worth the anxiety?
Somehow, Marcus is able to get my mind off tonight’s Taekwondo class—well, Marcus and the pile of work that awaited me. One of my co-workers is on maternity leave, with the bulk of her work falling on me, which I don’t mind—it will give me the chance to show how valuable I am to the company.
I have a five-year-plan, which involves becoming an agency director within two years. Right now, I’m in the experimental stage – trying to wear a lot of hats – so that I can decide on which part of advertising I want to focus. Right now, I’m leaning toward the creative side, which means I’ve taken up the habit of leaving notepads everywhere—on my nightstand, on the coffee table, and even on my toilet’s tank cover. You know, for when those creative inspirations strike. Last week’s inspiration almost knocked the wind out of me – literally – when I jumped out of the shower to jot down one of my brilliant ideas and almost slipped and fell. Who knew advertising could be so dangerous?
“Don’t you need to head out to class,” Marcus reminds me. It is already 6 o’clock and my class, which is a good thirty minutes away, starts at 6:30.
“Oh my gosh, how did it get so late?” I grab my Taekwondo uniform and run to the restroom to change before driving manically across town to get to class.
“You made it,” I hear a familiar voice say. It’s Logan, who looks even cuter than he did before. Relief sweeps over me. He seems friendly enough; he doesn’t mention our potential date, but he does assume the position of my boxing partner again. “Either punctuality is not your strong suit or you like making an entrance when you arrive,” he says.
“I got caught up at work,” I reply, a little embarrassed by his comment.
“Class, we will begin with the Ready Stance,” our instructor Master Kim commands. I find myself a little self-conscious knowing that Logan is standing right beside me. “Now, Fighting Stance.”
“I’m not sure if I’m doing this right,” I say.
“Just picture the Karate Kid.”
“Never saw it.”
“What? You’ve never seen it?” Logan asks in disbelief, maybe a little too loudly.
“Silence. There should be no talking,” Master Kim instructs.
I look over at Logan and give him a scornful look; “Silence,” I say playfully.
Taekwondo is all about mind over matter, which is part of the reason I decided to take the class. I’ve been known to be a tad obsessive at times, a worrier, I admit. The idea of being able to have complete control over my mind and thoughts is appealing.
I am the youngest of three kids and the only girl to boot. My older brothers are five and seven years older than me. My parents have never said it, but I’ve always just assumed that I was an “oops child,” even though I grew up with my parents telling me that I was an answer to their prayers—the girl they always wanted. My brothers never seemed convinced of that explanation and felt it necessary to inform me that I was, indeed, a surprise to my parents. To my brothers, I might as well have been an alien—they never understood my girlish emotions, and incessantly called me a “crybaby”.