All events portrayed in the following are completely fictitious. Not a bit actually happened folks.
I awoke to the tone of "Shout It Out Loud" coming from my cell phone. I groggily reached for it.
"Hello?" I asked into the receiver.
"Jake?" said a female voice.
"This is he."
"Jake, it's Mila."
"WHAT? What the fuck are you doing calling me? I thought it was made fairly clear how I feel about you!"
"Jake, please don't hang up! I'm sorry okay? I was stupid, and let jealousy and everything get a hold of m-*click*" I hung up and turned off my phone. What the fuck was she thinking, expecting me to even speak to her after what happened? Right as I was having these thoughts run through my head, a knock was at my door.
"Yo man, what's with the Banshee impression?" asked Kyle as he peeked through the door. "Some of us would like that precious gift called sleep."
"Nothing," I replied. "Just someone calling me when they shouldn't, that's all. I'm gonna go for a walk, get some coffee, eliminate all the steam built up."
"Whatever man. Just no more hulking out."
***********
I decided to walk down to a book store that I knew had a coffee shop on the inside. It opened up surprisingly early, so I knew I had a shot of going in and having some good reading to go with my coffee and donut.
I walked in and headed for the mystery section, hoping to find something to pique my interest. Mysteries were not usually my style, but on occasion I would stumble across something that would hold my attention. And judging from my perusing, today would not be that occasion. I headed over to the adventure section, and managed to come across something that piqued my interest, a collection of the earliest Conan stories by the creator, Robert E. Howard. I decided to pick that up.
I was skimming over some of the stories on my way to the register when I bumped into someone, accidentally knocking the person over. When I looked, it turned out I had knocked over a stunning brunette, which only made me help her faster. I'm only human after all.
"Oh shit, I'm SO sorry," I said, helping her pick up her things. She had a few books on her as well. "I didn't see, you, I should have been paying attention. Did I mention the sorry part?"
"No worries," the woman said as I helped her. "I didn't see you either."
"Yeah, but you didn't knock me on the floor."
"True enough," she said with a smile. "But still, don't feel bad. No one was hurt."
"Yeah, but still, I feel like a bit of a tool. Any way I can make it up to you? Buy you a cup of coffee or something?"
"Ah, so it wasn't an accident, this was planned all along", the woman said with a sly smile.
"No..I mean..arggghhh...listen, could I just get you a cup of coffee, it would make me feel better about knocking an innocent woman on her ass."
"Fine, fine, anything to ease your tortured soul Mr......?"
"Parker, Jake Parker. And you are?"
"Morena."
Once everything had been picked up, Morena followed me over to the mini-coffee shop within the store. For some reason, this lady looked very familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place her face. No big deal I suppose. This was a pretty woman, and I was a single guy, the equation wrote itself. Anything else would most likely be just an annoying variable.
Once we had ordered our coffees and such, we sat together at a table near the front window of the store. This was really the first time I got to soak in everything but her marvelous face, which I had already gotten several spectacular views of. She was wearing some very sexy jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a black jacket. In my opinion, very nice.
"So, Morena, you from good ol' New York originally?" I asked, taking a bite from my donut.
"Well, I was born in Brazil, but for the most part, I'm completely a New York girl," she replied. "What about yourself?"
"California guy right here," I replied. "But I swear, I'm not a hippie. I bathe and am pot free."
"Wow, you bathe! I feel lucky. If you can also read, well then, I think I hit a home run."
"Wow, a sarcastic New Yorker, who'd have thunk it?"
"Oh, what was that? You don't want me sitting with you?" she asked with a smirk.
"Please, forgive my accidental blurting of the truth," I replied. "So, what do you do for living?"
"Well, I'm an actress."
"Really? Have you been in anything I would have seen?"
"Well, I've mainly done plays, but a few small parts in movies have also come my way. Also had a big part in a TV show a few years ago."
"Really? Was it something I would have seen?"
"Maybe, the show was called ‘Firefly'."
"Wait a second.....you played Inara, didn't you?"
"Give the boy a cigar! Wow, I can't believe you remember that show. Not that many people saw it."
"Well, most people think that ‘Patch Adams' is a triumph of the human will. Besides, I'm a huge fan of anything Joss Whedon touches, Alien Resurrection excluded."
"Wow, I'm sitting with a fan. Should I be calm, or running scared?"
"Hey, no need to fear, I'm cool. I won't be no harm ma'am, nu-uh," I said in my best Little Rascal-esque voice.
"Eh, I trust ya. Aside from that whole, traumatic event with the me falling down, you seem like an okay guy."
"Thank you. Okay enough to see me again though?"
"Perhaps," she said with a smile. I saw her reach into her purse to take out a pen, and then she scribbled something on a napkin. When she was done with her scribbling, she pushed the napkin over to me. "That's my number. You ever want to get together or something, just call me up. Lot easier and more convenient then knocking me on my ass."
"You got it," I replied, folding the napkin up and placing it in my wallet. "You want another cup?"
"No, one jolt of caffeine is all I need in the morning, but thanks." She got up from her seat and begena to walk away, then stopped for a second to tun her head towards me. "Don't forget to call Mr. Parker."
"Oh, trust me, I won't."
*********
As I walked through the door of the apartment, I must have had a big ol' shit-eating grin on my face, because I was immediately called on my recently out-of-character good mood.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Kyle said, pulling his head away from the TV. "Who's this odd man? Could it be? No, that's impossible. That sad sack of crap isn't capable of smiling."
"Shut up dingleberry," I said, tossing a strewn about pillow at his head. "Can't a dude be in a good mood?"
"Usually, I'd say yes, but your ass has been nothing but power ballads and Friday Nights alone lately, ‘cept for those rare occasions where me or Josie can get you goin' to do somethin'."
"Hey, I have plenty of fun and adventure."
"Dude, sitting at home watching Bruce Campbell fight the hordes of darkness doesn't really count as adventure, so the question stands, what's with the grin Mr. J?"
"Well, if you must know, I met a knockout brunette this morning at the book store, and got her number."
"Oooh, wow. That's amazing. No really, it is. See, this is me amazed."
"Well, you may be more floored if you knew who the number belonged to."
"Sure, sure, I'll bite. Who's number is it?"
I looked through the DVD case for my Firefly box set. I threw it at him and said, "That brunette."
"He scanned the box cover for a bit before it hit him. "Bullshit. Bullshit. And three times I say it, bullshit."
"I say thee nay to thine cries of bullshit," I replied.
"Yeah yeah, blow it out yer ass Thor. I still say bullshit."
"Alas, poor Kyle, thou hast little faith in thine own cousin."
"Dude, cut it with the Asgard talk."
"Sorry, got carried away there. But anyhow, let's place a little bet on it. If I call this number, and Ms. Morena Baccarin shows up at the bar this Friday, you let me go early and cover the entire bar on your own."
"And if she doesn't show up?"
"Then you leave early and I cover things. Probably better that way for the customers. They won't have to dodge Jack Daniels bottles."
"Two things. One: Fuck you, and Two: You're on." We shook hands and the bet was on. I felt a bit odd on betting on something as trivial as this, but if it meant I got out of work to go out with a beautiful woman, I wasn't going to complain.
*******
I was in my room, strumming around on my acoustic guitar, when my cell rang. I picked it up.
"Yo, this is Jake," I said into the phone.