And we called her Cherry. I'm not really sure how she got that name, or why. That's just what we called her. She was beautiful. Beyond words. I'm not sure why I keep saying "was" like she's gone. She is still here. Still with us. Still beautiful. She's not Cherry anymore, though. That name just kind of faded away. Lots of things faded away that summer.
I haven't really told you much of anything yet, have I? Let's start with the basics. I was raised on journalism, so I'll go ahead and answer the Five W's and the H.
Who? Cherry was... well, she was just cherry. She's got a name, but if I were to use her real name you would know exactly who I was talking about and I'm not about to do that. You know me... I'm Dave. What more do you need? Everyone else is everyone else. The names of the side characters in this story don't really matter. I mean, they're all my friends and huge parts of my life, but in this story, in this place, all names will be changed to protect the innocent and guilty alike.
What? This is the story of how Cherry became Cherry and then... didn't.
Why? Because I can't sleep and you, apparently, have too much time on your hands
When? This was the infamous summer of 2002. AKA - Our Summer of Love AKA - Beach Blanket Bingo-a-Go-Go AKA - Oh Two? Oh No!
Where? To make it easy, we'll pretend all the events that follow happened in Gainesville. They didn't, but I'm not too keen on telling the whole story. I like leaving a bit of mystery to the whole thing. If you weren't there, you weren't there. There can be no substitute for the real thing.
How? My god if I only knew how, I wouldn't have let it happen the way it did... but it happened. We'll call it fate. Maybe karma... maybe just shit luck.
So there you have it. Gainesville. 2002. Me. Cherry. A wicked twist of fate. Kids, this is not the story of how I met your mother....
She whispered in my ear. That was my first contact with her. We were at Market Street with our bottomless mugs just minding our own business, throwing darts when she slipped up behind me and whispered in my ear, "Hide me!"
I turned around to see an angel. Albeit a very drunk angel, but still. She looked over her shoulder and said it again.
"Hide me."
I had no idea what to do. It didn't help that I was already pretty gone myself. So I did the first thing that popped in my head.
I said OK.
I raised my glass to my buddies, downed the rest of my beverage and turned to the angel that appeared so suddenly over my shoulder. I just looked at her for a second, taking everything in. Her hair was swept down over one nearly bare shoulder. Her dress was markedly out of place where everyone else in the building was wearing shorts and T's. Her eyes were so wide and so glassy. They definitely showed a look of mild concern, though, so I knew I shouldn't hesitate anymore before I lost my chance. Taking one more look around I saw a guy trying to move through the crowd. He was dressed in a suit. They looked like they belonged together.
She looked me in the eyes and said the word that pushed me into action.
"Please?"
That was my queue.
Without even thinking, I just lifted her over my shoulder and pushed through the crowd and out the front door. To this day, I can't tell you why I did it. Why didn't I just pull her towards the corner of the bar with the rest of my friends where she wouldn't be noticed? Why didn't I sneak her up the back stairs, behind her mysterious pursuer? No clue. I did what I did, though, and once I picked her up there was no turning back.
The rest of that night was kind of a blur. I remember putting her down eventually. Maybe two or three blocks away. We went to another bar. She was so fucking beautiful. We got a ride from someone... her friend? My friend? I couldn't tell you. We were at an apartment. It was loud so we went for a walk. She never told me who she was hiding from or why. Not that night, at least. I remember someone driving me home.
And that's about it.
When I woke up the next morning, I had a wicked hangover and a phone number written across my arm in black Sharpie. It took me two days to get that scrubbed off, by the way. I tried to remember exactly what happened after I left Market Street but could only recall the few snippets I just mentioned. All I had was the number on my arm and a name.
As I got ready to call the number, I realized something, though. I didn't actually have a name. All I had was a number. Shit. Oh well. I called it.
It rang.
Twice.
Then she picked up.
"Hello?"
I didn't know what to say. This was a girl I picked up and carried out of a bar the night before. We had a good time and as far as I know, we didn't have "A Good Time" if you know what I mean... and here I was calling her the next day without even knowing her name? If you know me, and since you're reading this I know you do, you know that is NOT something I do.
"Anyone there?"
Shit.
I was still on the phone.
...
.....
.......
And then I said it.
I don't know why, but I did.
"Cherry?"
"Oh, Dave. Good morning!"
The fact that her voice sounded so chipper while I felt like the bottom of a lumberjack's shoe pissed me off a little.
The fact that she recognized my voice and recognized my name definitely made me smile.
The fact that I called her "Cherry" and she responded was just plain confusing.
Well, folks, its 3AM and I just got through telling you how we met Cherry, so I'll just fast-forward a bit for ya.
We talked for a while that afternoon. Ended up grabbing lunch. Swapped stories from the night before, trying to hammer down some specific details, which we didn't. And she told me why she was hiding. I'll tell you that tomorrow night. Just know that after that night, she became a part of our group. Instant friend. It was pretty epic.
Oh, one more thing... To this day, when I think back to the first time I met Cherry, I will always remember how struck I was by her beauty. Never again had I felt caught so off guard by someone. It was just... Wow.
I haven't really told you much of anything yet, have I? Let's start with the basics. I was raised on journalism, so I'll go ahead and answer the Five W's and the H.
Who? Cherry was... well, she was just cherry. She's got a name, but if I were to use her real name you would know exactly who I was talking about and I'm not about to do that. You know me... I'm Dave. What more do you need? Everyone else is everyone else. The names of the side characters in this story don't really matter. I mean, they're all my friends and huge parts of my life, but in this story, in this place, all names will be changed to protect the innocent and guilty alike.
What? This is the story of how Cherry became Cherry and then... didn't.
Why? Because I can't sleep and you, apparently, have too much time on your hands
When? This was the infamous summer of 2002. AKA - Our Summer of Love AKA - Beach Blanket Bingo-a-Go-Go AKA - Oh Two? Oh No!
Where? To make it easy, we'll pretend all the events that follow happened in Gainesville. They didn't, but I'm not too keen on telling the whole story. I like leaving a bit of mystery to the whole thing. If you weren't there, you weren't there. There can be no substitute for the real thing.
How? My god if I only knew how, I wouldn't have let it happen the way it did... but it happened. We'll call it fate. Maybe karma... maybe just shit luck.
So there you have it. Gainesville. 2002. Me. Cherry. A wicked twist of fate. Kids, this is not the story of how I met your mother....
She whispered in my ear. That was my first contact with her. We were at Market Street with our bottomless mugs just minding our own business, throwing darts when she slipped up behind me and whispered in my ear, "Hide me!"
I turned around to see an angel. Albeit a very drunk angel, but still. She looked over her shoulder and said it again.
"Hide me."
I had no idea what to do. It didn't help that I was already pretty gone myself. So I did the first thing that popped in my head.
I said OK.
I raised my glass to my buddies, downed the rest of my beverage and turned to the angel that appeared so suddenly over my shoulder. I just looked at her for a second, taking everything in. Her hair was swept down over one nearly bare shoulder. Her dress was markedly out of place where everyone else in the building was wearing shorts and T's. Her eyes were so wide and so glassy. They definitely showed a look of mild concern, though, so I knew I shouldn't hesitate anymore before I lost my chance. Taking one more look around I saw a guy trying to move through the crowd. He was dressed in a suit. They looked like they belonged together.
She looked me in the eyes and said the word that pushed me into action.
"Please?"
That was my queue.
Without even thinking, I just lifted her over my shoulder and pushed through the crowd and out the front door. To this day, I can't tell you why I did it. Why didn't I just pull her towards the corner of the bar with the rest of my friends where she wouldn't be noticed? Why didn't I sneak her up the back stairs, behind her mysterious pursuer? No clue. I did what I did, though, and once I picked her up there was no turning back.
The rest of that night was kind of a blur. I remember putting her down eventually. Maybe two or three blocks away. We went to another bar. She was so fucking beautiful. We got a ride from someone... her friend? My friend? I couldn't tell you. We were at an apartment. It was loud so we went for a walk. She never told me who she was hiding from or why. Not that night, at least. I remember someone driving me home.
And that's about it.
When I woke up the next morning, I had a wicked hangover and a phone number written across my arm in black Sharpie. It took me two days to get that scrubbed off, by the way. I tried to remember exactly what happened after I left Market Street but could only recall the few snippets I just mentioned. All I had was the number on my arm and a name.
As I got ready to call the number, I realized something, though. I didn't actually have a name. All I had was a number. Shit. Oh well. I called it.
It rang.
Twice.
Then she picked up.
"Hello?"
I didn't know what to say. This was a girl I picked up and carried out of a bar the night before. We had a good time and as far as I know, we didn't have "A Good Time" if you know what I mean... and here I was calling her the next day without even knowing her name? If you know me, and since you're reading this I know you do, you know that is NOT something I do.
"Anyone there?"
Shit.
I was still on the phone.
...
.....
.......
And then I said it.
I don't know why, but I did.
"Cherry?"
"Oh, Dave. Good morning!"
The fact that her voice sounded so chipper while I felt like the bottom of a lumberjack's shoe pissed me off a little.
The fact that she recognized my voice and recognized my name definitely made me smile.
The fact that I called her "Cherry" and she responded was just plain confusing.
Well, folks, its 3AM and I just got through telling you how we met Cherry, so I'll just fast-forward a bit for ya.
We talked for a while that afternoon. Ended up grabbing lunch. Swapped stories from the night before, trying to hammer down some specific details, which we didn't. And she told me why she was hiding. I'll tell you that tomorrow night. Just know that after that night, she became a part of our group. Instant friend. It was pretty epic.
Oh, one more thing... To this day, when I think back to the first time I met Cherry, I will always remember how struck I was by her beauty. Never again had I felt caught so off guard by someone. It was just... Wow.
No comments:
Post a Comment