This is Getting Harry, pt. 2

I look forward to the day when I know better than to drink and text. That said, I'd like to reiterate my growing infatuation with Harry. Which actually isn't an infatuation, it's a pleasant, happy, authentic, attraction that bubbles in that friendly way which you know has nothing to do with the physical, (Harry isn't at all handsome) and everything to do with how well the two of you get on.

He makes me laugh; full heartedly. As any woman and slighter wiser-to-the-game man knows, that does it for most of us.

So, in a nut shell, this is what happened tonight: I went out with Harry and Jonas, our mutual French friend, to the cafe I live above, our usual place. In a span of several hours, I spotted a Frenchie I found attractive and, at the urges of my two usual bar buddies, (and several glasses of wine) I decided to make contact. I stuck my leg out as he was passing by and tripped him. I jumped up from the table, apologized, and then assaulted him with some terrible French to tell him brazenly that I found him handsome. He was more or less shocked, as can be imagined, but we managed to exchange a bit of info before I returned to the table with J and H. Harry spilled his beer on me. Yeah, that's the second beer this week to end up on a French outfit of mine. A lot for a mild mannered girl who doesn't even drink the stuff.

Meanwhile! In the street just outside! The nice guy with erectile dysfunction. You remember. He sees a light on in my apartment and has begun to call and text me lovingly saying he wants to see me and he's waiting below my window. I may just be in the bar next door, but I don't have my phone with me. Then it's closing time! So every one jostles into the street.

Handsome guy who I broke the ice with is trying to kiss me while I'm trying to kiss Harry who's seemingly disinterested while Jonas is trying to kiss me in what should be the platonic French way but its going all wrong, so suddenly im in a kiss orgy with everyone except who I want to be in a kiss orgy with.

Then Harry's gone, so, like any rational girl, I dart across the street and up the stair case into my apartment where I send him a desperate text message. "Damnit Harry, can't you see that all I want in life is an affair with you before you leave?" -smooth as silk, I know.

Then, moments later, I notice the 6 messages and three voicemails from E.D who had been below my window in the street. Several more minutes later and of course I realize that I really need to stop texting Harry like this at 3 am. He's taken. He's taken taken taken all over the place, (in England anyway) and I doubt our platonic relationship has any hopes of surviving my sillyness.

Lastly, Handsome Parisian is online. The only of all the above who's properly available and whom I harbor an authentic affection for. So I said hi, and he logs off.

check please