With Time to Spare

Oh shit!

(4:47 PM)

I had less than fifteen minutes to shower, get ready, and meet Angie at Wrigley Field. From Wrigleyville — which wasn’t that bad. But still, I was going to be tardy. And today was special.

I threw on my jeans and a new jersey while hopping over to the bathroom sink. Whether I needed to brush my teeth or my hair first was totally solved by running my toothbrush through my hair with my left hand while combing my teeth with my right. Eventually, I got it right and washed my face while I was at it. I checked my pockets for everything I needed, and I was out the door.

I had told Angie to wait for me, but I texted her while I ran toward Wrigley.

Babe dont be mad but im gonna be late love you

After a moment:

Oh boy here we go

I tripped over a curb and lost my phone. By lost my phone, of course, I mean a scraggly homeless man picked it up and loped away with it.

Hey! Bring that back!

He was long gone into some alleyway before I even said that, but what was most important was my watch reading (4:53 PM) and me not being at Wrigley.

Angie was the kind of gorgeous that you don’t gush about until you’re right in her face. Interpersonal beauty isn’t just skin-deep, it fills up the air around you until you’re smothered in bliss; ignorant as to what you’re breathing in. As I jumped over some street performer before the gates to get into Wrigley, I realized I had forgotten to breathe during most of this.

And then, the air just froze where it was. There she was.

She sat cross-legged on a set of stairs before the ticket-checkers. A coke rested on her thigh, and a plate of nachos covered in cheese sat on the other. She looked up and waved.

Hey you.

Did you miss me?


I held onto the coke and helped her up with my other hand. She wore her hair in ringlets of straw, and they bounced against her sun-kissed face. She was beautiful enough.

Let’s go.

We passed admission and picked at the nachos. My heart was still pounding from my chest, and it didn’t help that she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. I looked at my watch.

(4:59:26 PM)

Just on time.

I pulled her through the crowd quickly and found an entrance where we could see the board.

The digital clock read 5:00, and the projection beside it flashed.

She wailed with glee, pushing me down on my knee as I popped the ring out from my pants.

Angie, will you marry me.

To a field of Chicagoans, applauding to us.

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10 thoughts on “With Time to Spare

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