Eleven
Hanging Upside Down From a Chandelier
MattI feel like a teenager on prom night as I get up to open the door. Not because I’m anxiously wondering whether I’ll get laid—I got laid long before prom night—but because there’s something nerve-wracking about this whole thing. I haven’t seen or heard from Hailey since the night at the opera, and now I’m forcing her into a date I’m not sure she wants.
As I reach for the doorknob, it occurs to me that maybe she’s not even at the door anymore. Maybe she knocked, left the food on the mat, and sprinted back to the elevator. I wouldn’t blame her. I mean, what man asks a woman to pick up all the stuff for their dinner date and deliver it to him? Is that romantic as f**k, or a total d**k move? Could go either way, I guess.
A breath of relief sl
