minus the white socks and ray bans

Now that we've closed the chapter on Mr. Barely Legal, you're all up to date on my London adventures and we're finally in the present tense again, I need to tell you about Mr. Risky Business.

No, he doesn't look like Tom Cruise and he's not prone to dancing around his house in a white button-up shirt and tube socks. But he is, in fact, very risky business.

Let me back up.

Last weekend I had plans to go catch a concert at the HiTone with Lindsey, and before I went to meet her I needed to make an appearance at a little house party. The house (and associated party) belonged to my cousin, who is, like me, enjoying the novelty of hanging out with his little cousin for the first time as actual grown adults who do things like drink and swear. I was planning on stopping by, saying hey to the Cuz, meeting some of his friends and kicking it for maybe an hour or so before I headed out to grab Lindsey and go to the show.

Only none of that ended up happening. Well, that's not true -- I did run out to pick up Lindsey, but we drove right past the HiTone and came back to the party. There was a mountain of free booze, tons of good munchies and the place was wall-to-wall people. It would've been silly to waste our time somewhere else! Imagine the interesting conversations and titillating new personalities to which we never would've been exposed had we not stayed! IMAGINE!

Okay, and. And, there was also a boy.

This boy was one of the first people I met when I walked into the party, but "met" is a bit of a misnomer -- like most people whose paths cross mine these days I did know of him for some assorted growing-up-in-the-same-town sort of reasons and a few degrees of Kevin Bacon. The usual.

Fairly early on in the evening, though, this boy reveals a piece of information about himself. And it's that information that makes him risky business, Mister Risky Business to you. Let's just say he's just gotten out of a very serious relationship. Legally serious.

But y'all, he is cute. And not only is he cute, he seems to like good music (and he's willing to talk to me about music even though I live to bust chops) and he's smart and he's a creative and hey, do you know what else? He is NOT, in fact, 21 and does in fact have a job and also a car and also, lives in a house that he pays for with his money. That he makes. FROM HIS JOB. Did I mention the job/car/house thing yet? It's just all kind of new for me lately.

Next thing I know it's almost 5 in the morning and we've pretty much outlasted the lot, with even my cuz leaving us to fend for ourselves around 4 a.m. and going to bed. And Lindsey and I went back to my place, like good girls (well, as good as you can consider yourself that close to sunrise) and I crossed my fingers that the spark I'd felt wasn't just in my head.

Spoiler alert? It wasn't.


cheers,
elizabeth