big P

by jennifer

tuesday night, my roommate and i are watching a rerun of sex and the city. it is the beginning of carrie's relationship with jack berger. he leaves a perfect message on her answering machine. she revels in those first flushes of having a crush. the initial chemistry. the potential.

almost as an aside, another guy emerges from the woodwork and asks her out on a date. she doesn't like him nearly as well as berger, and is thinking about blowing him off.

it seems to take one date to get another.

her friends urge her to go out with the second guy. just to take the edge off her upcoming date with berger.

mid-episode, our house phone rings. it is paul. we exchange pleasantries and are slightly less awkward on the phone the second time around. i remind him that he's promised to take me to that great restaurant by where he works.

let's do that.

i ask if it is more of a dinner or lunch place?

lunch, he says.

ok. and we make lunch plans for friday. he'll call thursday to confirm.

as we are wrapping up the conversation, my cell phone begins to ring loudly, echoing in the kitchen.

i say good-bye to paul and go to check my missed call.

i recognize the number. it is bookstore boy.

i immediately return the call. he answers, and i still remember his voice from when we last spoke in november.

"hi. i just missed a call from this number."

"oh, hey MV. i don't know if you remember me... my name is __________. we met at [the bookstore] a couple of months ago..."

"yeah. of course i remember you. i actually just called you yesterday. i was looking through some old papers and found your number. thought i'd give you a call since i hadn't heard from you in a while."

"i'm so glad you did. i lost your number before i programmed it into my cellphone, and i'd wanted to get in touch with you, but i didn't know how. so when i saw you on my caller ID, i thought, i have to call her back immediately."

immediately. i turn the word over in my head. he had to call me back. immediately.

he asks about my holidays. seems enthusiastic about my work, asks many questions.
he tells me about working at the bookstore. waiting for his medical license so that he can begin his residency.
in the meantime, he has creative projects. writing.
we talk about hometowns and family.
we talk about our love for texas-mexico border towns.
how culturally amazing it is to be mexican american.
i share my anxieties about having to find a new job.
he tells me, "i've been on a lot of job interviews. and so much of it is just... you're very charming. you don't have anything to worry about.

charming.

he is nervous and self-deprecating and perfect.
he tells me, "it's so funny to meet you now. i've just been in the middle of things. and kind of brain dead. and then."
he makes no sense. but i want to believe that i know what he is saying to me.

after maybe half an hour of this thrilling, perfect conversation, he asks, hesitantly, "so. do you think. that i could. call you sometime?"

"that would great."

"and maybe we can. hang out. or something."

"yeah. i'd like that."

i tell him that i have a project i need to finish by friday. but saturday or sunday.

ok.

good night.

i return to the living room and recount as many details as i can remember to my roommate.

"see!" she tells me. "you need one date to get another!"

"i feel like such a pimp," i tell her. "or is it a puta?"

who cares? the rest of my week looks bright.