I Don't Mess With Love

I have to admit that my job is somewhat enviable from the outside. Office-wide jello shots at 4:45? What's not to love? But sometimes when I'm walking to the train station at 7am I still drag my feet juuuust a little.

A few weeks ago, I realized that I had spent slightly too long deciding which black sweater to wear that day and it was time to start power walking or risk missing my train. Because God forbid I'm late for an opportunity to hurtle myself at 80 mph in an aluminum/fiberglass tube 135 feet below the bay. (Ye-ah, I know how to use wikipedia).

Anyways, I was hussling the last few blocks when a man stopped me on the street.

Dude: Giiiiiiiiiirl! [SCORE! All great conversations open this way!] Girl, I have to tell you. You look fine.
Me: Oh, thanks!
Dude: And the way you walk is MMM!
Me: Ha. Thanks. [Awkward silence] Have a good one!
Dude: You too.

We go our separate ways.

Dude: Wait.
Me: Yes?
Dude: You got a man?
Me: I'm sorry?
Dude: You GOT a MAN?
Me: Yes. Yes I do. [Liar! LIAR! Pants on fire!] And, I also have a train to catch...
Dude: Oh, ok.
Me: Bye!
Dude: Wait.
Me: Yes, sir?
Dude: How long have you been with your man?
Me: I'm sorry?
Dude: How long have you been together?
Me: Two years. [You wish]
Dude: Damn. So you're in love?
Me: Oh. Yes. Love.
Dude: Damn. If it was only 3 or 4 months, I was going to see if you wanted something on the side. I would mess with 3 or 4 months. ... But I don't mess with love. I'm Brian. If anything changes, you let me know.


Honestly, Brian? You made my day. I just have this amazing dry spell going. And I don't mess with a sure thing.