A piece of plastic trash-oh god, a tampon applicator? Heather thought- blew against the street sign, bounced, and then into their path.
Kurt scooped it effortlessly, athletically even, and tossed it into the wrought iron caged receptacle at the corner of the gas station.
This was where most guys would say Played a little shortstop in college, but Kurt said nothing, just smiled at Heather.
They met at a climate change action march, and tonight was a first date-walking of course, then split an appetizer at the Greenhouse, of course, and it turned out Kurt was a Pisces, of course, and it was the best date Heather had had maybe ever, not of course.
She forgot her lucky blue hat and she could feel her allergies kicking in and she felt like any minute she would turn into a cranky, congested beast and ruin it.
Kurt said “excuse me,” then walked into the small parking area of the gas station.
Heather got ugly tingles like her wonderful date was about to obliterate all the good by purchasing something at a major gas chain.
Kurt’s walk slowed.
He even slows down gracefully, Heather thought. She knew she needed to pump the brakes, especially if he walked through the glass doors of that multinational disaster.
Then Heather saw the man selling incense.
Kurt purchased a pack of incense, said something, then both the men laughed.
Heather’s stomach did a little unhappy dance.
Most incense made her nauseous.
She was going to say something, but Kurt hadn’t invited her into his apartment, if he was even going to.
They continued the conversation that had been interrupted by the blowing trash and went right back to laughing about odd mixes of dog breeds.
When they passed Brookmire School, Kurt said “My place is only two blocks east, would you,” and somewhere around the “ould” Heather said
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