Can you strike out with one swing?

So tonight I got home and checked my messages. The machine was blinking, telling me that I had two of them.

"Hi this is Brook, I tried to call you twice last weekend but you're never home, and I don't like to leave messages on machines but..."

I admit, I smiled. But the message didn't say much. She apologized for not calling me sooner, and said that I was sweet, and to give her a call.

So why is this guy such a sweet guy? Perhaps pathetic, shy, and clueless could also be used to describe this guy. You see, last Tuesday I decided I was going to nut up and ask this girl (Brook) out. I had met her a few weeks earlier at the house, and we'd had some pretty good conversations since then. She seemed payful, she smiled at me, and she liked to dance. To top it off she was a curly-haired blonde (dyed as I later found out, but who am I kidding -- the larger-looped curly hair drives me crazy). Needless to say, I was sold at first sight.

So I had this plan. I was going to buy a single carnation, walk up to her place, and ask her out. Then things started to go wrong, fateful even. The florist was out of carnations, so I had to buy something else. I ran into everyone I knew on the way to her place, and they of course asked me what I was doing with a flower. And the biggest problem -- she wasn't home.

Now, the first thing they teach you in the boy scouts is to tie a square knot. Somewhere after that they drill into your head that you should always be prepared, and about the third time you forget your poncho during rainy season at summer camp it breaks through. Remembering these timeless lessons, I brought a note, just incase she wasn't home.

It was simple. "Brook, I think you're cool ... call me sometime if you want to hang out ..." I drew my inspiration from that one note I got in sixth grade history class. Albeit, I didn't have any boxes saying: check yes if you like me...

So I left it. Then I waited. And Waited. And Waited.

Nearly two weeks later, she calls me. Excitedly I begin planning out where we might go, what we might do, what I should say on the phone. To gauge my level of elation and comittment to what I think of this girl, I offer you this: I even cleaned our bathroom -- toilet and all.

So then I realize I might be putting my cart before the horse, reach for the phone and call her.

me: Hi
Brook: Hi (as if she had my number programed in)
me: It's Matt
Brook: I know ... so ...
(insert meaningless tap-dancing conversation here)
Brook: The flower was really sweet
me: ...
Brook: I have a boyfriend


Too bad sweet also equates to lonely...