Me
Flash? Like Flash, Flash, hundred yard dash? From Zootopia?
Audrey
Yup!
Me
That is absolutely amazing. I can’t wait to meet her.
Audrey
She’s pretty opinionated, so don’t take it personally if she doesn’t like you. Corgis are notorious for being brats.
Me
I’ll keep that in mind. Is tonight okay? Are you alright if I bring dinner?
Audrey
As long as I can reimburse you for half.
Me
That’s fine. Any allergies or foods you won’t eat?
Audrey
No allergies. I don’t like to eat much with my hands, and slimy food freaks me out.
Me
One time I had natto, which is fermented soybeans. I was unprepared for how slimy, yet sticky, it would be, and I immediately threw up, so I’m with you on the slimy food thing. Chinese food okay?
Audrey
I’m going to ignore the comment about natto, because I actually like that dish. But my favorite Chinese dish is beef and broccoli.
Me
Mine too! And I’m ignoring your comment about liking natto.
A few hours later, I’m in front of Audrey’s small townhome, which is only about twenty minutes from my house. Over three million people in this city, and we’re this close to each other. It makes me wonder if I’ve ever seen her before. I have to think I’d have looked twice if I had.
I can’t help but notice the massive disparity between our neighborhoods. Mine is full of palatial estates, with tons of spacebetween each home. I haven’t even met one of my neighbors. Audrey’s neighborhood is quaint, but old. Large trees line the quiet road, still bare from the winter, but I imagine how beautiful the street must look in the summer and fall. I pass a young family pushing a stroller, and a gentleman walking his large Labrador retriever. I bet Audrey knows many of her neighbors, and is probably well-versed in the gossip of the neighborhood.
I snag a parking spot right in front of her house, noting the fun wreath on the door that includes figurines of a variety of animals. The center one is a dachshund holding a four-leaf clover, obviously for Saint Patrick’s Day. Undoubtedly Audrey has figures for every holiday of the year, which I find completely adorable.
As I step out of my Maybach SUV, I realize how out of place I look. Not only is my car at least double the price of every car around, but it didn’t occur to me to clean myself up at all after my workout today. I’ve arrived in a worn Colorado Coyotes long-sleeve shirt, a backwards cap to cover the hair that is badly in need of a trim, and mesh joggers. Not exactly the greatest way to make an impression.
I wonder if Audrey’s hair is down. I’m desperate to see it. Is it curly, or stick straight? Does she like it when someone plays with her hair? I have a feeling it would be incredibly calming to drag my fingers through her tresses. Wind it around my fingers to feel its softness. Or around my fist as I pound into her from behind.
Dammit. No. Get it together, man.
Knocking on Audrey’s door, I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. When I get anxious, it can go one of three ways. I might be able to calm myself down. Or, I could get incredibly overstimulated, needing to get the hell out of here fast before I embarrass myself. But worst of all, I might actually puke.
My first two years in the NFL, I puked before every game. It became a running joke with my teammates. “Sorry, Coach, you can’t give us your inspiring Ted Talk just yet. Wahlberg’s barfing again.” I’m honestly thrilled it didn’t make the evening news, although I’m not sure how.
