I was in a hurry and didn’t have a chance to introduce myself. If this is too weird, don’t text back, I understand. Kay.” “What the fuck?�...� Escapes from your mouth, this can’t possibly be happening. Was it the girl you were wishing for? Was it the one that you had all, but given up on? You sit there, starring at your phone, unsure what to say. This was the easy way out, texting, yet it was difficult to know what to say. Curiosity led you. “Why did you want my number?” You sent, and. But after a surreal intensity, it was over.Told to close my eyes, yet again, there was a quick collection of things and no conversation. The enthrallment of the past hour receded and the potential repercussions of it started chipping through my sated lust. Like a fool, I wondered, “What I have I just done?” As if I’d somehow not been aware of the “adult” choices I could have made, the professional conduct I could have embraced. And pass up what just happened? I knew myself too well and chuckled. We really had a great time catching up on each other’s lives, dancing up a storm, although she was pretty wild on the floor because she was sloppy-drunk. We sat down to take a break, and she breathed into my ear that she’d always liked me. I responded that I always liked her too, but never asked her out because I knew Ron liked her more. She smiled sweetly, maybe a bit too demonstratively, and said, “Aww, such a good friend.” In her sweaty, flushed state she smirked and whispered a little too. ‘Ladies and gentlemen I have a pleasant surprise for you all! Tonight only, new 49ers first round pick, Nick Foreman, is going to spin some tracks for you!’ The crowd on the dance floor clapped and cheered. Nate took a deep breath, looked at the computers and skimmed through the tracks. Nate smiled and clicked on a track. The Beatles’ ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps,’ started playing. The 49ers in the bench rolled their eyes. Then Jay-Z’s ‘What More Can I Say’ started playing over The Beatles. .