I awoke the next morning to the sound of my cell phone ringing shrilly from my bedside table. Reaching out and pressing ignore, I cocooned myself back into my comforter, attempting to resume the deep sleep I had been enjoying. Obviously not deterred, the demon-spawn on the other end called again. Looking at the caller ID, I answered with my head still planted under my pillow.
"The world better be ending for you to be calling me this early on a Saturday morning, Amy", I grumbled into the phone.
"Get your ass out of bed and come down to my place. I've already got coffee on, and you and Chloe promised to help me find a dress today."
"Fine.", I said before ending the call, having no real intention of opening my eyes, let alone getting out of bed and hauling myself over to Amy's apartment. Besides, she should know by now that shopping wasn't really my forte. The idea of milling around a packed mall, trying on items that either didn't fit my ass or my boobs was not really appealing to me today. I was not a large woman by any stretch of the imagination, but I was blessed with a small waist, relatively large breasts and a nicely shaped rear-end. Any women out there with the shape of an adult female, not that of a teenage boy, could relate to my fashion predicament, I'm sure.
Twenty minutes later my cell rang again. "OKAY! I'm on my way", I answered knowing it was Amy on the other end.
"And bring some bread for toast. I'm out", she added before hanging up.
Needless to say, I'm not a morning person. In college it took two separate alarms clocks to wake me up in time to make it to my 10 am American Lit class. Since then my distaste for waking up hadn't lessened in the least, and I brushed my teeth in a half-conscious state before grabbing my house-coat, Metallica slippers, and rye bread, and schlepping down to Amy's 5th floor apartment.
The door was already ajar when I got there, so I walked in, immediately hit with the smell of coffee and eggs.
"Feed me", I joked as I walked in to Amy's kitchen to find her haphazardly flipping pancakes.
"You can feed yourself after you pour me a cup of coffee."
"Yes, Martha", I responded sarcastically as I poured us two cups of coffee before perching myself on her kitchen counter.
"Okay, we have to eat fast cause Chloe wants to meet us downtown at noon. And you", she added as she turned around and looked at me, "need to have a shower. Just because your pretty, Jen, doesn't mean you're exempt from bathing and basic hygiene."
"Oh, a comedienne", I replied sarcastically before we both dug into breakfast. I went back to my place to get ready, opting to wear my favourite threadbare band t-shirt, a pair of tight skinny jeans, and some knee-high black leather boots. I put my dark brown hair into a bun, put on some mascara and lip gloss and headed out the door.
Amy and I met Chloe downtown and made our way through the stores and boutiques lining the streets, trying to find an outfit for Amy to wear to her Christmas Party.
"So did you at least have a chance to unwind last night?" Chloe asked while we waited outside the dressing room for Amy to model her latest pick.
"I did! Don't worry so much, Chlo" I assured her. "Trust me, I had a better time than you think" I said almost under my breath, but knowing full well she had heard me.
"Oh, really?", she asked, intrigued now.
"Yes, really. I actually had a really great conversation with a young man while you two were out neglecting me", I continued coyly.
"Oh, please", Chloe rolled her eyes. "So was he hot?". Chloe. You can always count on Chloe to go straight for the goods, and that, my friends, is why we love her.
"Yeah", I sighed.
"Um, why do you sound so disappointed when you say that? You didn't sustain a brain injury since I saw you last night, did you?" she joked, eyeing me expectantly.
"Ha. Ha. Yeah, no. All good on that front. But since you asked, he is gorgeous. And way too young for me." I answered decisively, unclear as to whether I was trying to convince myself or Chloe.
"Oh, My God!", Chloe burst out, her eyes looking like they were going to pop out of her head. "How young are we talking here, Cradle Robber?".
"I don't know. 21, 22, 23. Somewhere around there."
"Oh, please", Chloe responded, almost disappointed. "That's only like a year younger than me. 4 years younger than you. Big deal".
"Uh, what were you expecting, Sicko? Some sort of Letournou action? No, thanks.", I responded.
"ANYWAY", she continued. "What did he look like?"
I groaned, tossing my head back. "Ugh, Chlo, he was beautiful. He's got this dark, curly hair, big luscious lips, and these beautiful dark eyes and long lashes, And beautiful skin." I added.
"Wait, we are talking about a guy here, right?" Chloe asked slowly.
"Stop it, I'm serious! Gorgeous and adorable with the cutest laugh and this incredible smile. And he seems like a genuinely kind person. AND he's Canadian to boot".
"To BOOT, EH?", Chloe shot back, met by my glare.
I continued to get the third degree from Chloe and now Amy as we jumped from store to store. With the added help from Amy, the questions were now bordering on an interrogation: What was his name? Are you going to see him again? Where does he live? What do you mean you didn't get his number?
I was perusing through a particularly hideous display of UGG boots when Amy yelled to me from the dressing room of the 10th store we'd ended up in that afternoon. My feet were killing me, and now thanks to the UGG's my eyes were, too.
"Uh, Jen. Can you come here a second?"
"Yeah what's up?"
"Do you want to tell my why I have a text on my phone from a Sidney Crosby asking if I can get you to call him?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice and on her face as she opened the dressing room door.
At that moment Chloe almost spit out the sip of water she had just taken, choking and coughing for several seconds before she managed out a loud "WHAT??"