Gordon Hayward Really Loves Me

 

It was standing room only on a poppin Friday night at Cheers to You. I had my Amaretto Sour in hand and my ears open ready to take in the scene.

 

Sometimes I just like to hold my drinks and feel the energy...like I imagine Lana Del Rey does. Am I in the bar? Is the bar in me? We don’t need to know. Anyways, there I was feelin my groove when an enormous monster of a man put his hand on my elbow and said “excuse me”. His size and clothing would only suggest two options:

 

1. He was a male model having a night off from an elaborate fashion shoot for Abercrombie and Fitch...or...

2. He was a sports player for the Utah Jazz.

 

I watched him weave in and out of the crowd like a snake on a plane. He knew people were staring, but he didn’t care. He looked confident and cool. He walked up to the bar and ordered a Hard Cider. I had to be closer to him...his vibe was intoxicating and I needed to soak in his charisma.

 

Other bar patrons would ask for his photograph…”sign my face!” I heard someone shout. After staring and listening for 6 minutes I learned that his name was Gordon Hayward... and he was mine. His powers swept over me like a typhoon and I suddenly had to have him.

 

I walked right up to him and began to recite a poem I was making up on the spot when it hit me. His arm hit me. He was waving to a fan across the bar and his 10 foot long arm smacked me in the face and I melted into the ground like a fudgesicle in the rainforest. He didn’t even notice the accidental assault even as I crawled through his tree sized legs out of the mob.

 

I guess you could say we connected that night. It’s what I say at least.