GSC

I lost all sense of reasoning. I worked with him for 2 1/2 years and for the first chunk I had the biggest crush on this guy. I blamed it strictly on the Old Spice Sport that he wore. It was like a cloud that followed him around. It addled my brain and I would word vomit all over him. Anything I was thinking, within reason. Thankfully, it never went to such a level of telling him this.

Because he worked with me, none of my room-mates/friends ever saw him so I couldn't confirm whether he was attractive or not or it was really the Old Spice addling my brain. Let-me-tell-you, it messed with it good. It took a long time to be normal, and those residual feeling remained for a long time.

It took a long long time for us to actually be friends. Not "hang out outisde work," friends.. Just "getting through the day," friends. I am okay with that. Over this time, he became such a solid good friends.

It is hard to know where to start with my stories about Charlie, but we'll start with this:

How I Spent My Monday:

"I didn't realize how drunk I was on Friday night. I went home and completely passed out."

Lightbulb

"Ah," I said, "that would explain..." (exaggerated pause)

"Explain what," a tinge of consternation appeared on his face.

"Oh, nothing. Just our conversation to the bus stop." I returned to reading the Harry Potter book I've read half a dozen times knowing full well that no one could call me out on my crap since my one companion to the bus on Friday night wasn't coherent.

"Well, what did I say? Was it something offensive?" He asked repeatedly, obviously concerned.

"You know, it's in the past. No big deal. It's nothing to be concerned about," I assured him, with an air of nonchalance and that annoying smirk on my face that perpetually gives me away when I try to play a joke and/or lie. I avoided eye contact with him, for fear of him seeing the lie. He caught something.

"Either you're playing a trick on me," he said slowly, his brow furrowed and eyes were slits. We made eye contact. Blast, the gig is up for sure! "Or.... your silence means that I did say something!"

Shoot and score.

I left the room trying to reassure him that he didn't offend me at all.

I'll find out. I will."

I smirked as I went about my business. He walked past me occasionally and 95% of the time, he would remind me in undertones that he would find out. Or ask repeatedly if it had been offensive. I would shrug and tell him not to concern himself. "Don't worry about it, it's okay." I was a broken record.

At one of these solid gold moments I told him that the great thing about alcohol is that it's almost like a truth serum. Ask the right questions and you get a wealth of information.

This did not comfort him.

It was a roller-coaster of a day because sometimes he would assure/reassure himself and me that he wouldn't have said/done anything. That the things he's done in the past that he felt were a big deal weren't to other people. Then I would let something slip and he'd be back to complete consternation that I knew something he desperately wanted to know, that he couldn't remember. I avoided looking at him all day, for fear he'd catch on to me. I couldn't keep this going. I couldn't stop smirking.

But you can only keep these things going for so long. Right? So in true Amanda fashion, I attempted to tell him that, in fact, he hadn't done anything. He took this as me trying to be nice and just covering it up.

You just can't win with some people...

Solid use for a Monday.