Well I'll Be Damned

"Well I'll be damned, that went well."
"And you're surprised?"
"Aren't you? I always fuck everything up. I'm surprised I didn't choke."

She smiled that big bright smile, and took my hand. It was nice to see someone could be truly happy for someone else. There was no jealousy here, and in the future I just hoped I could do the same for her, but I doubted it.

"I'm not surprised," she said.
"Well I'll be damned."

She laughed then and stood up all twirly dressed and overexcited about her motions and emotions. "I'll get us a drink. It's on me."

It was always on her. I watched her as she weaved through the chairs to the bar. She stepped up onto the little rail that ran around the edge and leant over on one elbow, waving down the barman with the other hand. She looked like a little tinkerbell in all the dresses she wore and her short blonde hair. I, on the other hand, looked more like captain hook.

She came back, double whiskeys, and set them down on the table.

"So, now that that's gone well, what's the plan?"
"The plan?" I hadn't really thought of a plan. I hadn't really thought I'd make it through the first step. "I guess I do more, and hope they go well too?"

"Well then," she said raising her glass, "cheers to that!"

She clinked her glass on mine and we drank.