A couple weeks ago, Leo and I were discussing what we were going to do to celebrate my turning twenty six. Naturally, I had assumed that he would fly into Los Angeles and we'd spend the weekend hitting up our old haunts.
Leo: Hey, here's a nutty idea... what if we went to San Francisco?
So@24: Well then. That is a nutty idea. Fuck it, let's do it.
So that was it. We were heading to San Francisco. Leo and I emailed a few other friends and everyone hopped on that party train (unfortunately, Jack couldn't make it. He said it was work but I'll put my money on he still recovering from Santa Barbara).
I was looking forward to a weekend away from Los Angeles and reuniting with old friends. And of course, there was the possibility of hanging out with Bree again. Since our first encounter, I wasn't sure when I'd see her next.
Over the next week, the boys and I started finalizing San Francisco plans -- dinners, bars, bbqs, Frisbee golf, more bars... you know, a packed weekend. When I told Bree I'd be in town , she seemed enthusiastic. Unfortunately, she could only come out for Friday night, she would be out of town the rest of the weekend. My timing wasn't the greatest; figures.
Within an hour of landing in San Francisco, I was well on my way to checking off "throwing back lots of booze with old friends" on my list of things to do. I was texting back and forth with Bree, trying to find a location to join both her group and mine.
It was already close to 10:00pm at this point (you know what it's like to mobilize troops) and I was getting more worried that my time with Bree was going to be extremely truncated. Also, as it came closer to catch a cab, my nerves grew and in turn, so did the shots of scotch. Leo would have probably stepped in to make sure I wasn't getting too drunk, but this was his vacation too. No rest for the wicked.
The group piled into cabs and we were dropped off at a bar that was located in a side alley of San Francisco; pretty cool. There was a good crowd forming and the jukebox was pumping out the hits. I stood in a circle with my friends, but I admittedly was torn between conversation and looking over their shoulders at the doorway, keeping an eye out for Bree. Leo gave me a pat on the shoulder and we took a tequila shot.
I went to the bar to order a round for the boys and when I turned, Bree was standing right behind me. She flashed her signature dimpled smile and I, in turn, grinned like a fucking goon. I quickly introduced her to all of my friends, but noticed that none of her friends made it out. Bree had come to meet up with us solo. Ballsy.
After introductions were made, I pulled her to the bar so I could order her a drink. I think she did her fair share of prefunking as well and we were both tossed at that point. While we were waiting for the bartender to catch our attention, she gave me that headtilt that girls do that I absolutely love.
You know what I'm talking about? It's just a slight tilt of the head and a coy smile. That shit can stop a man in dead in his tracks, I swear to God.
It was then I went in for a kiss and it was reciprocated. No nerves, no second guessing. I didn't overthink it. And it was good.
I've written before how I hate when a guy and a girl kiss in public settings. It grosses me out. But I was 100% fucking guilty of this on Friday night. However, if I have any room to make a plea to the court, it wasn't that disgusting, humping on the dance floor kiss you see all the time. I'm talking like the "hold her face with two hands, put her hair behind her ears" kind of kiss. The good shit. The kind that's so goddamn sweet, those who were fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it might now have diabetes.
Again, I'm not usually the type to do these acts in public arenas, but I remember thinking to myself, "I just don't care." I didn't know when I'd get the chance to do this again and my time with Bree was limited. I was fine with being "that guy".
I stuffed a couple of wrinkled bills in the jukebox, we both decided that MJ's "The Way You Make Me Feel" was the best song to play at that point (that's a fucking winner, ladies & gentlemen), and we danced.
After seemed like only a few minutes, Bree said that she needed to head home. I walked her to a cab and offered to see that she made it back safely. She insisted I stay so I closed the door, wished her a safe trip and wave "goodbye".
And with that, she was gone. Like fucking Cinderella and that cab was the fucking pumpkin carriage.
All in all, it was a great weekend. Had a great time hanging out with Leo and the rest of the guys, and it was a welcome escape from the tedium of LA. And seeing Bree was nice. All too brief, but such is life.