Thursday August 25th - D - Sampson's Side

D

Sampson’s Side

The show ends and it’s time for Nick and Lenny to reveal their big plan.

“Guess what we’re going to do now, Sam.” Nick says.

“I’ll be honest; I have no idea, man.” I respond just wanting him to tell me. Sometimes he makes me guess and it gets really obnoxious.

“The same thing we’re going to do every week from now until we go to college.” Nick continues.

I stand there still hoping he isn’t going to make me guess.

“Go to The Sandwich Shop.” Lenny declares excitedly.

Now you have to understand. To these clowns, this is like they died, went to heaven, and ordered a hoagie. To me, it’s just not like that. You get to order your sandwich from the counter and sit outside and eat it. And since everything’s outside, you get to see everyone and be as messy as you’d like. It’s a good time, but every week? Where do these kids get the money to do that? But my two best friends were excited, so admittedly, I was excited, too. Maybe I had to feign it a little bit, but I was excited.

But anyway, once we get there, we have a great time. We just sit around, eat our sandwiches, and talk for hours. We talk about the comedians and every single one of their jokes. Lenny is actually freakishly good at quoting comedy. We laugh and the food is falling out of our mouths. Lenny does an amazing impression of all three of the performers. He is really good at making everyone laugh. Sometimes I even think Lenny should be a comedian. But I hear it’s a really hard business, and Lenny doesn’t exactly have a lot of determination. Plus a lot of Lenny’s humor comes from just playing off whatever’s going on at the time. Responding to what everyone else is saying. I’m not sure he’d be able to write a set of jokes. Or even if he’d want to. I think he’d get bored of reciting the same material night after night.

After a few hours of sitting here laughing, I even have the craziest thought. It might actually be fun to come back here every week. I am enjoying myself the most I have all summer, and I know that this is an omen for a great year to come.

And then, something happens, and I can’t listen to anymore of Lenny’s jokes. And I can’t listen to any more of Nick’s witty remarks. I’m distracted. Their voices become quieter until I can’t hear them at all. Nothing but background noise, if that. They are completely silent to me. Something has happened, or should I say someone has happened.

There’s an angel across the parking lot. She’s so incredibly cute. There is no other way to describe it. She’s short and smiley, and she has the most adorable dimples. Her hair is curly and the kind of blond that even Marilyn Monroe would have died for. And her eyes. Oh her eyes. She was far away but still those eyes could have been seen from twice the distance. They’re green. I like green eyes. Most guys like piercingly blue eyes, but I love the deep greens. And these weren’t just any deep green. They were the kind that looked like emeralds had been hand-picked and placed on her face. Like Dorothy would travel to the city in her eyes.

And I’m going to be honest; her face is not the only thing I’m looking at. She has the most perfect body. It matches her. Everything goes together just as it should. It all fits the package. There’s even a golden glow around her forming the type of silhouette of light an angel would have. Or maybe that’s in my head, but what can I say, I’m smitten. And all of this is great, but there is one more thing that is much more important.

She’s looking our way. No, actually strike that. She’s looking my way.

Then the unthinkable happens. She turns to her friends and points at us. I can’t tell what she’s saying, but it appears to be good.  At this point I know I have to tell my friends what’s been happening, but I can’t snap out of it. I can’t stop staring. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m staring and think I’m a creep or something. I don’t know. There’s this college girl and her friends trying to get a sandwich, and here I am, a high school kid who can’t stop looking at her. What does she want with me? Maybe she’s telling her friends that she’s going to go over and pretend to flirt with me. I really don’t care actually. If it’s real flirting or fake flirting, it’s going to make my night a hell of a lot better.

And then her friends look over quickly. I can tell they’re doing one of those pretend not to look kind of things. You know, like a little turn and look around and pretend not to be looking at anything in particular kind of thing. But they’re definitely looking at me, and they’re definitely talking about me. And giggling. Or maybe not giggling. Maybe that part’s in my head.

At this point, I start to get nervous, and I start to get a little worried. What will I say when they come over? Will I be able to formulate words at all? I’m not really a smooth talker by any means, and I know this girl would only go for those guys who could really woo her. Did I just say “woo her?” I mean sweep her off her feet. That’s what I mean.

She’s coming over and I’m incredibly nervous. I quickly check behind me and see there’s another group of guys sitting there. She must be going to them. She must know them. I’m calm. She has to know them.

No, I’m still nervous. What if she doesn’t know them? What if? What if? I start to sweat. I hope no one else notices. I can’t think, and I really don’t know what to do.

And then there’s a tap on my shoulder.