Thirty-two

I could tell Thirty-two was trying to be his buddy’s wingman for a girl standing near me, so I decided to help out, too.  After a successful team effort with that, Thirty-two twirled me, I twirled him, and we started talking.  He was wearing a grey sweater with a red and white gingham checked shirt underneath and humorously asked me if it was okay to wear gingham.  I advised him, “This is San Francisco, so anything goes.  However, gingham is always okay when going to or from a picnic.  The real question is do you own anything that could be considered a man purse?”  He said the closest thing he had would be a laptop bag.  At some point during our conversation I asked him if the hokey pokey or the hand jive were in his top five favorite dances, to which he asked, “What’s the hand jive?”  “Really?!  How many times have you seen Grease?” “Uh, none.  I’m a man.” “That’s preposterous, what kind of man are you?”  Then I proceeded to teach him the hand jive.

A while later we realized his friends had deserted him, but we continued to talk until it was time for me to go catch my bus.  As I got ready to leave I asked him, “If we were to consider this our first date, when are we going on our second date?”  Thirty-two vaguely replied, “Oh, you. I’ll see you here next time.”  “Fair enough.  Until next time then.”  You would think that after talking for almost an hour I would have been irritated at his response, but I actually appreciate it because I've said something similar to that when I wasn't interested in someone.  The good thing is, I don't have to wait around and wonder if he's going to call.  Next, please.