30 - Don't flex, don't tell

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The run worked a treat in tiring him out though, and he remained perfectly still and asleep on my bed while I continued to test my deodorant’s ability to make me not smell as I worked on the bathroom, getting it done in much less time than I thought it would take.

Of course, I didn’t exactly think ahead at how I was going to finally shower the various smells I’ve accumulated today between boxing, running, and grouting the tiles in my bathroom which now can’t get wet for at least twenty-four hours if the packaging instructions on the grout are to be followed. Fucker. I can’t even have a bath because I did the tiles surrounding the bath too, and knowing my clumsy ass, I’d splash water on them just getting in or out.

My options are, sponge bath from the sink in the kitchen, spraying myself down with the hose in the backyard, or driving down to the beach. The ocean bath won out considering it was still a beautiful day and being submerged in cool water to calm my muscles seemed much more preferable to making mud-pies in my backyard with Hades and having to clean up sweaty, BO water on my kitchen floors.

I quickly changed out of my clothes and put my bikini on, threw a dress over the top, and grabbed a beach towel from my hallway cupboard and a leave-in conditioner spray from the bathroom. If my poor hair isn’t going to be washed properly, this will have to do until I get home and do a proper wash in the kitchen sink.

I drove Hades and myself down to the beach, and he wasted no time in racing me to the water, barely giving me a chance to set our things down on the sand first. Settling into the water, I finally realised just how sore I’m feeling, so relished in both the healing and odour eliminating properties of the water.

Hades and I remained in the water before heading in when he started exhaustedly clinging to me, wanting the assistance to remain afloat without doggy paddling his little legs any longer. I laughed when he shook off the water and managed to reach a couple of girls sunbathing nearby, and focussed quickly on my phone in my hands when I saw them turning to grease us off.

Checking my phone, I saw a message from a guy I’ve been chatting to on one of the apps, asking if I was free to catch up today. I don’t have anything else booked in, and it’s only midday, but the weather is so nice and there’s hardly anyone here so it’s quite nice down by the water. My online interactions with this guy thus far have been so entertaining. He’s actually had me laughing out loud on many occasions, and the conversation has flowed so easily, with no awkward lulls or questioning what to say next.

So I replied by sending a picture of the ocean in front of me, saying I’m down at the beach near the pier if he wanted to come hang out here for a very impromptu, disorganised date. He replied saying he was on his way, and arrived fifteen minutes later wearing board shorts and a t-shirt and carrying a towel over his shoulder. I’d obviously pulled my sundress back on, not really wanting practically naked me to be the one making a first impression, and sprayed the shit out of my hair with the leave-in conditioner, so I’m hoping I look okay. It was hard to tell with the sun’s glare on my phone when I used the camera to check. His smile seemed to indicate that I must have scrubbed up okay at least.

“Hi, Eden,” he said, laying his towel out and taking a seat next to me, and prompting Hades to investigate who was now with us by wondering over and sniffing him curiously. “Thanks for agreeing to some company here on such short notice. This guy’s even cuter than in your pictures.”

And that is about the extent of his confidence for the next hour and a half, like he’d rehearsed what he was going to say on his way here enough times that it just flowed naturally out of his mouth, and every other question I fired at him or small talk I tried to instigate, he just froze and didn’t know how to respond, or second guessed his thoughts and so shared them so quietly I could barely hear them over the sounds of the waves in front of us.

I ended up getting so tired of hearing my own voice and straining my brain trying to think of new things to chat about that I ended up saying to him that I needed to take Hades home and out of the sun, which wasn’t completely untrue. We’d been outside for a couple hours now and he’s a black dog that absorbs more heat than others.

I waited for him to get into his car and drive away, then proceeded to cross the street with Hades to stand in front of Moonlight and the café next door. Whenever I head down to the beach I always seem to park my ass on the sand across the road from work for some reason. Familiarity, I suppose. I tied Hades up to the post outside and went to order myself, Nella and Luna drinks from the café considering they were the only ones I saw working through the glass shopfront. I know their orders by heart now considering how frequently we all do drink runs for each other while working, and wasn’t surprised to see their grateful faces when I walked in and dropped their drinks off at their stations, both working on their individual clients.

“Eden? I could have sworn you weren’t working today,” Luna said, seeming confused.

“Oh, I’m not. Was just down at the beach and thought I’d drop in and say hey,” I replied, taking a seat in my own chair.

“You look wiped, babe,” Nella said cautiously, like she was worried of hurting my feelings saying I looked exhausted.

“I am. Boxing this morning, then a run with Hades, re-grouted the tiles in the bathroom, swim, and then a couple very long hours of strained conversation on a date just now.”

“Didn’t you just say you were at the beach?” Nella clarified.

“Yeah. I was already down there swimming with Hades when he texted me asking if I was free. I told him to head down because I didn’t want leave yet but didn’t have any opposition to him coming to hang out. But boy, chatting to him in person was honestly like milking blood from a stone. I don’t get it. We chatted so easily online.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Nella said, looking disappointed for me. It’s becoming everyone’s standard facial expression when I tell them of the most recent date I’ve been on. I wonder what they’d look like if ever I told them about a date with the guy from gym. “I presume the stiff conversation means no second date then?”

I sighed as I realised that is indeed where I’m at on the matter of a second date. “I don't want to feel like I have to carry every single conversation we have. Maybe it's premature, calling this off after one date. We did chat and laugh really easily online, but I hate being on my phone any more than I need to be, and I don't want to hold all my conversations with a partner in the digital void I have no interest in getting trapped in.”

“Oh, I completely get that,” Luna said kindly while she continued cutting her client’s hair. All our clients are pretty understanding that we’re natural talkers and almost never shut up, even when working. We pull them into our chats too sometimes, just like they do us. Getting your hair done is basically a poor woman’s therapy, even though all of our clients can very much afford to pay for very high quality mental health advice if their designer clothes and shoes are anything to go by. “Conversation should be free-flowing, effortless and easy on both sides. Or deep and passionate, depending on your style. You, my love, are all of those in one, and you need someone who can match you in that, and this poor fellow unfortunately just doesn’t sound like he can be that for you.”

“She’s right,” piped in her elderly client beneath her, her freshly dyed silver hair being chopped by Luna as she spoke. “Sounds like you can do a lot better, sweetie.”

“And she will do a lot better, Maple,” said Luna, squeezing the old lady’s shoulders lightly. “Which you will get to hear all about when you come in next. Eden is going to be taking over most of my precious clients while I’m on maternity leave, so it’s actually a stroke of good luck her date sucked and she popped in to visit so I could introduce you two.”

“I look forward to hearing all the updates in eight weeks when I’m back again then,” Maple said, reaching for my hand and holding it tenderly, as if actually wishing me well between now and then.

I more than need it.

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