All names and places in this story will remain unnamed for the privacy of those involved.
I’d kept to myself at my job this summer as a hostess. Character A and I occasionally made small talk; I was all manners and innocent smiles to his playful jokes. There was not much between us, other than an unspoken consciousness that the other was interested.
I was the newbie at the restaurant and a mystery to Character A. To him, I was a quirky redhead from New Orleans who liked to dance to the music playing throughout the restaurant when business was slow, and used the term “sweet” to describe just about everything.
He was the cute sushi chef, the youngest on the kitchen staff, who told jokes to pass his time at work, and had an adorably contagious smile that I’d been enjoying since my first day.
I liked him. I had a new crush. The fluttering butterflies had taken residence in my stomach all summer because of him. He was my silver lining to a boring job.
After every customers would sit, I would swiftly make my way back to the foyer, looking directly his way. Sometimes we’d make eye contact. He would smile, I would smile, then I’d hold my eyes with his for just a second too long.
Our friendly relationship at work became flirty with every shift we shared. I often reminded him of my dwindling number of days at the restaurant, hoping it would spark his desire to ask me on a date.
It was my last week of work-moving back to New Orleans in eight days. Still no date.
It was my second to last day of work. Still no date.
What was this boy thinking?
Clearly he liked me. I caught him sneaking glances at me even more now. He should have asked me out by now. It’s my last day of work…
Of course this is just infatuation speaking, but I felt I had been modest for three months and the only place that got me was waiting-waiting on this silly boy to ask me out.
I’m not the waiting type. So I decided I’ll ask him out myself. I’ll be the man and invite him to dinner sometime this week.
So I did. I asked him out. The girl asked the guy.
He was rolling sushi behind the counter; I was rolling silverware on the other side. And I just asked. We got burgers and milkshakes at an old fashioned diner on Monday night.
We talked for hours that night. He’s an attractive, intelligent boy who I’m very glad to have met. I know I would have missed out on that little gem of a Monday night if I had sat around like Cinderella waiting for that boy to ask me out.
So ladies and gentlemen, I say screw the stereotypes and uphold the unconventional. To do things unconventionally is often the more perilous path in life-but I think it’s worth the risk.
Janece Bell is a communications junior. She can be reached at
