the month that never was

JUNE never ended. July never existed. Last night I counted that in the last 10 days, 8 of my journal entries were dated June instead of July. What does that mean? I feel robbed. Here's to living it up the last two days of June . . . I mean JULY.

Boy meets girl.

Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. Boy and girl watch fireworks and then carry on interesting conversation, interesting enough that girl wouldn’t mind if boy wants her phone number. He does. Girl awaits his call with actual anticipation.

Boy calls girl. Girl answers. Boy and girl talk for an hour and a half, and girl believes they were meant to talk to each other forever. Boy calls again. And again. Girl answers every time. Girl even calls boy and he answers. Boy asks girl out. Girl accepts. Boy even is going to look up all the vegetarian, vegan, and veggie-friendly restaurants in the area to take girl somewhere where she can comfortably eat the food.

Boy picks girl up. Girl . . . lets him pick her up? Can't think of anything better. Anyways, boy is thirty minutes late, but girl looks mighty fine in her new Plato’s Closet short-sleeve sweater dress and doesn't mind at all. Boy sees her and says, “Oh, you’re wearing sandals . . .” Girl says, “Uh-huh. What do you mean? What are we doing?” Boy says, “We’re going up in the canyon.” Girl says, “I don’t have a jacket.” Boy says, “Oh. Yeah. And we’re doing a BBQ and bonfire up there, so do you have any food at your place you can eat?” Girl says, “No, you idiot, but if you’d told me even half an hour ago I could’ve though.” Okay, girl really didn’t say that, but she did communicate that with her body language, tone, attitude, and eye contact. Just not her words. Instead she said, “Well, why don't you take me back home, and I’ll change my clothes. I don’t have anything at my house to grill because I’m vegan and you know that and we’ve talked hours about how hard it is to find food I can eat when it’s a date or social event, but I guess we can see what I can find at the grocery store.” Okay, she didn’t say all that either, but basically. Then boy proceeded to tell girl about his choice of media and the movies he'd brought for them to watch in the canyon. Boy's choice of viewing wasn’t so choice. Perfect beginning to a first (and last) date.

Boy grills steak. Girl grills salmon. The food is delicious enough to at least cloud girl’s memory of how the first hour of the date went down. Then girl's chair topples down the hill with her still in it, and she remembers.

Boy hasn’t called girl since. Girl hasn’t called boy since, although she needs to because he still has her camping chair and salt shaker. And they lived happily ever after. The End.