"Can I just say something, since you don't know anyone and don't care?"
"Shoot," I respond.
"I'm completely in love with that man."
"I kinda picked up on that."
"Is it really that obvious?"
"Not super obvious, but I deal with a lot of people, and it was pretty apparent."
"The thing is, we're both musicians, but he's so much better and more successful than me, and he's got girls everywhere and I'm just kind of the...friend, you know?"
"I'm not sure that that's the most accurate reading of the situation."
"Why do you say that?"
"The way he lingered over hugging you as he got out, the way he begged you to call him to go out more, anytime you wanted. The way he insisted that you shouldn't worry about money, that he'll treat you. The way he smiled at you when he got out..."
"Still..."
"Look, he's into you, and he's a little nervous about making a huge pass since you've already got an established friendship, but he's certainly opened the door as wide as he can without making things awkward in case you're not interested. You damn well better go for it, if you're completely in love with him. I don't know you cats, and there's a chance I'm wrong, but you can't bring this subject up without getting some free advice. And even if I am completely wrong, you owe it to yourself to try."
"Thanks, and I really mean that."
"Hey, good luck."
I think I'll go take a big steaming dump.
the story never continues below.
see folks, he's alright.
Writing is easy: Just open a vein. If the phone rings, stop writing and go solve a murder, make some tea, and then go back to the keyboard to await inspiration. Simple. Anyone can do it. Almost nobody does, however.