THE PERFECT GUY

I went to a cowboy bar with a friend from my work, a girl named Summer who was pretty in a way but I didn't think of her that way, because her way wasn't my way... That is, as they say, she wasn't "my type"...

And I wasn't her's but she was attracted to me the way girls are usually... More of a hidden crush that means about as much as a Valentines Day Card to your pet...

I had fun at the bar and we danced and later, back at her apartment, we kissed... And that was it...

I was (we were) pretty messed-up, and I think she pulled away because, as they say, she didn't want to "ruin it"... But what was there to ruin? There wasn't anything...

So the next day, after waking up on the couch, I met her roommate... He was one of those perfect guys into mountain climbing and canoeing... With the jutted chin and blond hair slightly balding which doesn't matter because his oval face is sunburnt-tan, and he's fit and wears clothes that fit to a build built from real work and manly, genuine exercise (years later, he'll jog pushing his baby in a stroller)...

He was a nice guy, like they all are... And why the hell not - he was the perfect guy?

And I don't think they were "together" but maybe he liked her... (Although he was much better looking a guy than she was a girl... but she was more confident than most girls I knew, and that's all it takes)...

When I drove off she was helping him put a canoe on (or in?) his truck... It was an orange canoe and his shirt was dark green...