Alright. Painting plans will be postponed till daybreak. But I plan to paint diligently tomorrow for the majority of the day... and I still have to study for the DMV Permit test on saturday... damn. Let's not even discuss piano lessons or my recital piece.

New Scenario:

I'm at some sort of 50's diner a la 5'n'Diner or Flashback, sitting at a table with a guy I've been friends with for a while. We've just come in a little bit after sundown so the air is still hot and simmering. Just saw a movie because we had nothing better to do.

The waitress comes over on roller skates and, popping gum, asks us what we'll have. Her orderbook held tightly with a pen in hand hovering over it. I order some sort of burger and a chocolate malt, and my friend orders something similar; another burger and malt.

Waiting for our order to be cooked, we have nothing much better to do. I start some hap-hazard conversation about the movie we saw earlier with friends, and seeing how he has similar tastes, agrees with most of the things I say. The only thing he argues with me about was who was the cuter female costar. I say the other one's too slutty, he says that he likes her just fine with a drawn out "f". I dismiss it casually.

I stare out the large window I'm sitting next to, looking at the people passing back and forth. A large group of teens just about our age walks by but... something's aloof with them. In their group were two guys walking side by side, holding hands, and the rest of the people there didn't mind at all. Huh.

That's when I notice my friend's reflection in the window. His gaze at the two were almost tangible, but his expression unreadable. The radio/mini-juke box at our table starts to belt out Sonny and Cher songs just before the awkward moment when our eyes met. He makes some suspicious comment about the validity of the 50's diner. Why do you say that? Sonny and Cher aren't 50's music! Well neither are the beachboys. Yeah, but they embody the feel of the 50's. How so? Surfing, beaches, 'nuff said. True.

He digs into his pocket and fishes out two quarters. I say something about the incredible speed at which our food was being prepared (at that point we were one of the few people there eating) while he flips through the selection of music they had.

How'd you like to hear American Pie? Had enough of it when Madonna did that video. Okay... Surfin' USA? No Beachboys please! I thought you liked them? Just because I mentioned them doesn't mean I necessarily like them. Fair enough... How about Jailhouse Rock? Sounds good.

Down go the two quarters. The food arrives after an impregnated length of time. Our appetites sufficiently wetted, we eat ravenously and manage to finish the basket of food in a few minutes. He looks over to my basket and asks me if I wanted my fries. Yes! But why? You're not eating them right now. I'm saving them for later. An eyebrow raises. Just wait and see.

The jukebox is playing Blue Suede Shoes as our conversations die down a bit. The silence between us is long and empty... much like a canyon in the desert. I'm trying to think up something to chit chat about while he flips through the songs somemore.

Hey. I'm startled when those words were uttered out amid the relative silence. What is it? I've... got something I want to tell you. Um, okay. Not now, after this song is over. Anything worth saying is worth saying now. Um... C'mon, aching ears never stay open for long. Well I... Closing, closing, closing.

I like you.

... What? But you're straight.

For as much as you know. I like girls fine I just...

What? Like guys even better.

Well... yeah. He flips through the songs again. Slower this time, and he doesn't even seem to actually look at the titles. Maybe just trying to find something to keep his eyes from me.

You know... if you're gonna play a song, you should play... My fingers brush lightly against his as I flip a few pages forward... This song.

That song? But it's--

Yep. A classic.

But...

What's wrong with "When I Fall in Love?"

... Are you trying to say something.

Maybe... were you?

Maybe.

At which point the waitress comes 'round again, this time with the two malts. Chocolate for me. Butterscotch for him. The waitress asks me if I wanted the fries boxed. No thanks I say, which earns a nod from her. I could care less anyways her postures gave away as she skated back into the kitchen.

So, want to see what I've been saving these up for?

Um.. sure.

Smiled and took a frie. Dipped it into the chocolate, swirling it in small circles, then bring it to my lips to bite off.

Say, aoes this mean what I think it means?

Dip. Bite. That what means what?

That we're--

Boyfriends?

Yeah.

Honestly, you're daft. Now open up.

Erk. I don't like grease with my milkshakes.

Why so afraid? It's only food.

Yeah. Say that to the guy who ate it stuffed with razors in Seven.

Just have one.

No.

Why not?

Because.

Ugh. You're the most uncooperative boyfriend I've ever had. Now, open--

Wait. Boyfriend?

Again, you're daft. Yes, boyfriends.

Well I... So you-ack!

Bite. There, now doesn't that taste delicious?

I think I'm gonna... hey. This. Isn't. Too. Bad.

See?

I think I'll have some more.

Then open up and say ahh.

Ahhh.

Don't do that, you look stupid.

But you said--

Hush. Here.

Lick.

Yum.

.... okay, that was a bit long. But then again I am typing this near the dead of night. And with my bio-clock set for 5am in the morning... that's not quite a good thing. Yes, I'm a bit sleepy right now.