Chocoholics: Love And Lists Part 4

"It's fine. I haven't been here that long. How was job hunting today?" I ask as I signal for our waitress so she can get Charlotte something to drink.

"Job hunting sucks. I should have just stayed in college for the rest of my life," she says with a laugh as she looks over the drink menu. "How was work for you? I heard you're doing some new promotional thing where you're letting customers vote on a toy name. That sounds fun."

"The customers seem to like it so far. We've gotten some great submissions and some creepy ones," I tell her.

"Creepy ones?"

"Well, the creepy ones have all come from Tyler. I need to block him from the company website."

Charlotte laughs and I'm instantly hard. I try to think about something other than the musical sound of her laugh, like cheesecake. But that doesn't help; I love cheesecake. And now I'm thinking about smothering Charlotte's body with cheesecake and then licking it off. I wonder if she would taste better with cherry cheesecake or blueberry? Does blueberry sauce stain the skin? I bet Uncle Drew would know the answer to that ...

"I was asked to come to the grand opening of a new s.e.x toy store in Cleveland this weekend. You should totally come. They want me to cut the ribbon during the opening ceremony," I explain.

"That sounds fun. I'll definitely be there. Just text me the address and when it is. Thanks for asking me to lunch too. I haven't been here in a while. Rocco brought me here on our first date and our bill was outrageous."

f.u.c.king Rocco. I'll show him. My bill will be bigger than his bill.

"So how's Brooklyn?" Charlotte asks, checking a text on her phone and then setting it to the side of her silverware.

I don't know. How is Brooklyn? I haven't spoken to her since she pa.s.sed out at the table and Tyler drove her home. I told him if he gave her my cell number or told her where I lived, I'd tell my mom he still sucks his thumb at night when he sleeps.

"She's great. Just great. Wonderful and great."

Charlotte leans forward and puts her elbows on the table while I gush about Brooklyn.

Holy cleavage, Batman. Don't look directly at the cleavage. Look at the ceiling.

"They have a light burnt out. I should tell someone," I mutter as I stare above our table.

I feel Charlotte's hand cover mine on the table. Swallowing thickly, I will my p.e.n.i.s not to make a fool of himself under the table. I can feel him perking up and that's all I need-him standing at attention, slamming against the underside of the table, and making the gla.s.ses and plates clang together. And now I'm picturing my p.e.n.i.s rising up like a phoenix and repeatedly smacking against the table like he's knocking on a door. Maybe that would impress her. "Hey, Charlotte, look what my p.e.n.i.s can do!"

Charlotte's thumb starts tracing small circles on top of my hand, and I'm pretty sure the clanging of the table is about to commence in two seconds.

"Brooklyn is really pretty. A little crazy, but pretty. Does she make you happy?"

She makes me happy when she's pa.s.sed out cold.

"Totally happy. She's great."

When she's not speaking. Or breathing.

"That's good. I'm glad you've found someone who makes you as happy as Rocco makes me."

Why can't Rocco just die already in a fiery crash?

"Are you guys ready to order or do you need a few minutes?" Our waitress interrupts as she stands next to the table with her pen and notepad.

Charlotte takes her hand off of mine and moves it into her lap. I want her hand touching me again. It's such a casual thing for her to do, but it has me all tied up in knots. Now my p.e.n.i.s has switched from a majestic, mythical bird to a fire-breathing dragon that wants to destroy the town. It's time for me to attempt the next item on the list, though, so I need to chill the f.u.c.k out.

"I'll have the Steak Diane and she'll have the Shrimp Scampi," I tell the waitress with a confident smile.

"I'm allergic to sh.e.l.lfish," Charlotte replies, giving me a funny look.

s.h.i.t! How could I forget that! Okay, be cool. Try again.

"I know, I was just making sure you remembered. Actually, she'll have the pet.i.te filet."

The waitress crosses it out and writes down the new order.

"I'm not really in the mood for steak," Charlotte states.

"Okaaaaay, she'll have the grilled chicken and avocado club."

Why is this so much cooler when guys do it in the movies?

"I don't like avocado. It's mushy and gross."

Son of a b.i.t.c.h!

At this point the waitress has crossed off and scribbled so much on the first page that she has to flip it over and start on a second page.

"Southwest chicken sandwich?"

Charlotte makes a face and shakes her head.

"Four cheese pasta?"

She shakes her head again and I start to panic. I already closed the menu and handed it to the waitress so I could look cool and smart. Now I look like a tool because I can't remember anything else on the menu. At this point it would probably be best if I could smack my p.e.n.i.s into the table. It'd be more entertaining than this train wreck.

"What would you suggest?" I ask the waitress, trying to give her a look with my eyes that says "Help me the f.u.c.k out with this!"

"I would suggest you let her order for herself," the waitress replies in a bored voice.

She is so not getting a twenty percent tip.

"You can order anything on the menu!" I tell Charlotte with my best air of authority.

"Yeah, thanks. I was planning on doing that anyway. Are you okay?"

No! I'm not okay because I love you and you won't love me back if I don't even know what the f.u.c.k you want to eat!

"I'm great! Money is no object."

Now Charlotte and the waitress are both looking at me like I'm a douchebag, but I can't shut up.

"She'll have the most expensive thing on the menu."

"Seriously, I'm fine with just soup and salad," Charlotte states.

Soup and salad only costs ten dollars. That does not make me look cooler than Rocco.

"And she'll have a bottle of wine. I'll have a bottle too. As a matter of fact, buy those people a bottle of wine as well," I tell the waitress, pointing at two women sitting at the table next to us.

"You want to order wine for people you don't know?" the waitress asks.

Don't question me. The customer is always right, G.o.d dammit!

"We'll also have a cheesecake. A whole cheesecake. And so will those ladies over there."

"I'm pretty sure those ladies are already eating cheesecake," the waitress tells me.

Can you just help me the f.u.c.k out already?!

"Really, I don't need a whole bottle of wine. Or an entire cheesecake."

"We'll just have one of everything on the menu."

Take THAT, Rocco!

"I think I'll give you guys a few minutes," the waitress mumbles.

"No, no, it's fine. He'll have the Steak Diane, medium-well, I'll have the French onion soup with a side salad and Italian dressing, and we'll each have a gla.s.s of Moscato," Charlotte explains with a smile as she hands the waitress her own menu.

And just like that, the next item on the list dies a slow, painful, emasculating death.

It's probably best if I take a few days off from the list. My mental state demands it. It's the last Friday of the month and that means Chicken Paprikash day. My mom makes the best Chicken Paprikash in the world and always invites a few people over when she makes it once a month. Tonight, my grandfather and his wife Sue are going to be joining us.

My grandfather George is pretty bad-a.s.s. For the first few years of my life we lived with him, and I have some of the best memories ever from that time. He always let me watch whatever I wanted on TV, and I could swear as long as I never told my mom. My grandfather is the king of stringing together long, completely inappropriate words that hardly ever make sense but sound good coming out of his mouth when he's p.i.s.sed off. He used to let me practice my run-on sentence curses until one day I said "s.h.i.t-p.o.o.p-h.e.l.l-freak-monkey" and I was banned from cursing. He shook his head at me sadly and told me he was disappointed in my lack of effort.

I haven't seen Pops in a few weeks, and since the entire freaking family is now aware of my love for Charlotte, I'm a.s.suming he is too since my mom can't keep her mouth shut. Hopefully he'll be able to give me some good advice. He's been married twice; he's got to have something useful for me.

I walk into my parents' house without knocking and see my grandfather sitting on the couch watching the Game Show Network. What is it with old people watching game shows? When I'm old, please don't let me ever fall asleep in my recliner watching reruns of Family Feud.

"It's about time you got here. There's too much estrogen in this house," Pops complains as he lowers the volume on the TV.

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

"Sue's in the kitchen with your mother and Sophie."

"Dad's here, isn't he?"

"Like I said, too much estrogen," Pops deadpans.

Flopping down on the couch next to him, I let out a great big sigh.

When Pops doesn't say anything, I sigh again, hoping he'll get the hint.

"Just spit it out, kid. You know I don't do the whole touchy-feely thing, so don't expect me to ask you what's wrong."

I should be used to his cra.s.s bedside manner by now, but I'm not. Being subtle isn't one of his strong suits.

"So, there's this girl I'm in love with-"

"Yeah, Charlotte, I heard," he interrupts. "She's not out of your league, if that's what you're worried about."

Well thanks a lot. I wasn't thinking that at all until now.

"She doesn't know that I'm in love with her. We've known each other since birth, and it's a little hard to just come right out and tell her at this point," I explain.

"Stop being a p.u.s.s.y and just tell her," Pops replies.

"But what if she doesn't love me back?"

Pops shrugs and turns back to the TV. "Then grow a pair and get over it. Jesus mother of f.u.c.k Christ in a p.i.s.s s.h.i.thole, d.i.c.k for brains, the answer is bathtub."

Well, this little talk sure helped to boost my confidence. As I get up from the couch to go in the kitchen and check on dinner, Pops grabs my arm and pulls me back down next to him.

"Sometimes I get a little nervous too. Here," he says, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a bottle of pills. "Take one of these vitamins. They're good for brain stimulation and all that s.h.i.t. Maybe they'll help you strap on a set and use that brain of yours to figure out a way to come clean with Charlotte."

Pops opens the lid and dumps two of the pills in my hand and then hands me his gla.s.s of water on the coffee table in front of him. Downing the pills in one swallow, I figure if they don't help stimulate my brain into coming up with a better idea for showing Charlotte I'm in love with her, maybe they'll calm my nerves about the ribbon cutting ceremony later tonight, or give me strong bones at the very least.

Something isn't right. Something isn't right at all. I want to have s.e.x. I always want to have s.e.x, but right now I want to have s.e.x with the giant pair of scissors I'm currently holding in my hand and that wouldn't be good at all. s.e.x and scissors should never mix.

I could totally fit my p.e.n.i.s into the finger holes, though.

I'm also contemplating having s.e.x with the drainpipe attached to the building to my left. And maybe even sticking it to the Rhododendron bush to my right. I wonder if anyone would notice if I got down on my stomach and just started rubbing myself against the curb? Is it still illegal to have s.e.x with trees in Ohio? I need to stick my p.e.n.i.s in something right the f.u.c.k now.

I glance out at the crowd of people gathered in the parking lot of Minney's Adult Mart and wipe the sweat from my brow. Seduction and Snacks is the only distributor for Minney's, so this ribbon cutting ceremony is a pretty big deal. I don't have time for whatever is going on with me right now. I feel like I'm fifteen again and a gust of wind can get me hard.

"Dude, what's wrong with you. You look like you want to kill someone. Or rape the pair of scissors you're holding. Are you feeling okay?"

I glance at Tyler standing next to me and notice he's wearing corduroys. Those would feel really good right now if I rubbed my p.e.n.i.s against them. All soft and rough at the same time. Like a ribbed condom, but better.

"Why are you looking at my legs like that? Stop it," Tyler scolds.

Shaking the dark thoughts from my head, I quickly turn away from him and try to think of something other than s.e.x.

"I don't know what the f.u.c.k is wrong with me. I was fine at my parents' house but started feeling funny on the way over."

That woman has really pretty knees. I've never had s.e.x with knees before.

"I hope that is a real f.u.c.king gun in your pocket and you're not excited to see me, otherwise this friendship is over. I don't swing that way," Tyler says in disgust as he stares at the crotch of my black dress pants.

Looking down, I realize I have the world's biggest hard-on tenting the front of my pants. I quickly turn away from the gathering crowd and un-tuck my dress shirt from my pants to try and cover it up.

"Oh my G.o.d, why won't it go down?!" I whisper yell.

"Try thinking about your mom naked. Wait, never mind, that just got me hard," Tyler says with a laugh.