Then I got the idea that maybe I don’t need an unusually intense, passionate experience to get past it. Maybe I just needanyexperience.
It has been over eight months since I last had sex, after all.
Maybe I’m carrying around too much tension, and trying to write a sexually charged scene is making it worse. I got the idea that, well, maybe I just need to get laid.
Being cooped up in my apartment and unable to get any writing done was making me nuts, so I decided to give it a try. I got dressed and headed to the busiest bar in town to meet a guy and put my theory to the test.
It didn’t take long for me to realize it was a stupid mistake.
When guys tried to talk to me, I’d just find them annoying. There was no spark at all. And when Jamie’s teammate strolled up to me, his eyes brimming with arrogance and acting like he was doing me a favor by approaching me, I gave him a few choice words before calling the whole experiment a failure and leaving.
Jamie’s teammate.
I don’t know why I thought of him like that. I know his name. He’s Felix Marshall. He’s a star player on the hockey team, and I see him at Last Word all the time. Why would I only identify him in terms of his relationship to Jamie?
Weird.
Now I’m walking around Cedar Shade as the clock passes midnight on a Friday night.
I’m not ready to go back to my apartment yet. It feels like all I’ve done for the last couple days is either go to work or sit unproductively at the seat in front of my desk.
I need time away from that space. And I’m not going to get a respite from that taunting Word document by sleeping in my room. I can feel in my bones that this is one of those nights where I won’t be able to fall asleep until it’s almost dawn. At least I don’t have work tomorrow.
I wish there were coffee shops open at this hour. I’d love a public space that isn’t a bar where I could sit down, nurse a hot coffee, and decompress outside my apartment.
Do twenty-four-hour coffee shops exist anywhere? Maybe Tokyo or somewhere like that. I could sure use one right now.
It might seem counter-productive to long for a coffee while lamenting the fact that I’m too restless to get to sleep. But Iknow tonight is one of those nights where sleep will elude me no matter what I do.
If I’m going to be up, I might as well at least have a boost of energy.
I don’t want to go home, but the cold air is starting to filter through my jacket and cling to me. I need to get indoors somewhere.
I turn a corner toward the big gas station in town. It’s open twenty-four-seven. I’m pretty sure it brews coffee all night long to cater to the small number of third-shift workers in town and drivers passing through.
Gas station coffee has never sounded as appealing as it does right now.
I walk inside, feeling the delicious blast of warmth from the heaters. It’s pretty lively in here, with students coming in and out for snacks. I walk over to the coffee station, and I’m delighted to find a full pot, the aroma twirling through the air telling me that it’s freshly brewed.
Hey, it might not be gourmet, but right now I’m a beggar, not a chooser.
I fill up an extra-large cup and pay for it at the register. Instead of wandering back out into the cold night, I sit at a counter that’s built in front of the long glass window near the coffee station. I take a slow sip of the hot brew. The caffeine hits my veins, and I feel an uptick in my mood already.
I guess I’ll take my time sipping this, maybe even get another, and then head home. At that point, at least, I won’t be sleeplessandexhausted as I ride out the rest of the night in my apartment.
“Gas station coffee at midnight?”
A familiar voice surprises me mid-sip. I turn to see Jamie.
He wears an excited but trepidatious look, like he had to build up the courage to come up and talk to me.
I’m still a little peeved at the whole experience of this evening, from struggling with my writing to being unable to get into the vibe at the bar. The wry note in Jamie’s observation raises my hackles, making me feel like I’m being judged.
“Is there something wrong with that?” I reply, my tone a bit too snappy.
An apologetic look splashes on Jamie’s face.
“No. Not at all. Actually, I suddenly realize it’s a great idea. Brilliant, even.Genius, even. So smart, that I’m in the mood for the same thing.”
