Heartbreak for Dinner: It's Kind of a Long Story by Annah Rondon Read Free Book Online Page A

day. “I guess I had it coming, huh?”
    He kissed my hair and rubbed the small of my back. “Shit happens,
Annie,” he sighed and pulled me closer in an embrace that possibly crossed the friend
zone for the very first time in our history of platonic affections. As I looked
up at him and put my hand on his face, I realized how simple life would be if only
we’d fall in love with our best friends and not the assholes we chase so dearly
as we roll into adulthood. That’s the thing about life, though, it is never simple
nor easy, and much as we may try, the heart will guide us to the places it wants,
even if most times it’s quite dangerous and smells of shit.

    Besties for life (or until Michael married some girl who didn’t
like me).

Encounters of the 3 rd Kind
    I was standing against a light pole trying to rest my feet,
a sea of people gathered in front of me as they waited to enter the nightclub. I’d managed to sleep two hours on the flight into Spain that morning. Yet, despite
my desire to make the night mine, my eyes closed involuntarily as I rested my head
on the wooden structure.
    “Don’t you dare fall asleep,” my best friend shook me and smirked.
“I’m this close to getting us in.”
    I watched Olivia go work her magic and tried to light a fire of excitement
unsuccessfully as I surveyed the people in line. As always, judging and examining
strangers when they weren’t looking was a pastime I couldn’t resist, starting with
the couple arguing right at the very front. The girlfriend scolded her guy for not
making reservations earlier just like she’d asked, and he rolled his eyes at her
in silence. A group of girls drank red wine from a Coke bottle, undeterred by the
long wait and creepers behind them trying to get a grope in. A fat guy picked at
his teeth with what looked like a plastic knife and I winced in disgust. Someone
behind him laughed in amusement and whispered something to her companion. Groups
of Spaniards gathered in clusters and waited, their heavy accents reminding me I
was 4,000 miles from the place I called home.
    I continued my judgmental parade down the line half-heartedly and
sighed, halfway hoping Olivia wouldn’t get her way and we could head back to the
Westin for some much-needed sleep. Two girls in miniskirts, a soccer team of guys,
a transvestite and his unsuspecting date, some friends on a double date and then,
there he was.
    I drew in a sharp breath at the sight of him and did a double take,
making sure James Dean hadn’t manifested his resurrection in my dreams and, maybe,
I was still sleeping in first class. My curious gaze must’ve drawn his to mine,
and from one moment to the next, blue eyes were locked with brown in a staring contest
I wasn’t mentally prepared for. At that moment, Olivia tugged on my hand and announced
we were in, a satisfied smile on her beautiful face. I managed an enthusiastic squeal
as my legs moved me forward, but when I looked back to make sure I hadn’t imagined
him, all that remained was his ghost.

Delicious Disaster
    Ever had one of those days where a single event triggers
a chain reaction that only leads down Disaster Road? Awesome.
    Back in ’04, I used to have an assistant position at a consulting
firm I loathed with the very essence of my being. My boss was a fat fuck with a
BMW complex – men who solely drive BMW’s to overcompensate for their lack of good
looks and bedroom skills – who demanded I make him Cuban coffee every morning and
go on pastry runs in the afternoons to fill the endless void in his stomach and
soul. On that fateful day, my mother rang me up around noon and told me she’d made
rice and beans with pork for lunch. Needless to say, I was home within the hour.

    I was living with my parents at the time, their house a two-story
place with seven dogs, five cats, and a thousand roaches lurking in the dark just
waiting to strike when you least expected. I had a one-hour lunch break and my boss
was a stickler for