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said. His head moved from one side of the room to the other as he scanned the rainbow of balloons strewn across the floor and his cake on the table.
    “Hi. Come on in,” I said, trying to seem very okay with how the evening was turning out. In reality I was a bit embarrassed that I’d gone through all this trouble for a fifteen-minute round of drinks and slice of cake before Matt went out for his real celebration.
    “This is sweet,” he said looking at the cake. “I had no idea you were doing this for me or I wouldn’t have made other plans.”
    We had a plan, you idiot! Just last night, you kissed me against an illuminated Pepsi machine, and we said we’d get together tonight. What happened between now and then?!
    “No big deal,” I said instead.
    “No, it is a big deal. I feel like shit.”
    Good! You should feel like shit. We had plans. What happened to our plans?!
    “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “More cake for me, right?”
    “Yeah, I guess so. Listen, why don’t I come back later and we can keep our original plan? Can I come back at around midnight?”
    Sure, I’ll just wallow in self-pity for the next three hours all by myself here.
    “That’s fine.”
    Look how easy-going I am, Matt. Please love me.
    “Yeah, that’s okay,” I said lighter than the previous “that’s fine.” I kissed him on his lips and told him to enjoy the time out with his friends. “I’ll be here when you get back,” I said, the shining example of the most excellent girlfriend.
    I turned on the news and poured myself a shot of Jack Daniels. The top story that evening was the storm. Thunder roared outside and rain frantically tapped on the hotel window.
    “Looks like heavy showers in Broward County this evening,” said a blond anchor woman.
    “Thank God for the news,” I said aloud to no one.
    Twenty minutes later, there was an urgent knock at my hotel door. It was Matt, soaking wet and breathless. “Oh my God, look at you. Come in, come in,” I said rushing for a towel. Drying his hair with the cheap white hotel towel, I almost inaudibly stated the obvious. “You’re back.”
    He smiled as if he wasn’t going to say anything else, then grabbed my waist and pulled me toward him and kissed me. Matt waited a second, like he was contemplating whether or not to explain himself. After the hesitation, he smiled. “You know, I was sitting there at the bar, and then I thought to myself, what the hell am I doing here? So I ran back.”
    You ran back? You didn’t just casually stroll back to me, you ran. Okay, so it’s raining, which may have added some incentive for you to hurry, but it was me you were running to .
    “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I said before I kissed him. As our lips touched, I was returned to the present when a guy behind me on line stepped on my shoe . I’m glad you’re here, I repeated silently. Maybe that’s what I’d say when our eyes met at the concession stand.
    Good to see you Matt. I’m glad you’re here. Too host-like?
    Well hello there. I’m glad you’re here. Weird.
    I’m glad you’re here. It’s good to run into you. Not bad.
    Hey, look who it is. Nice to see you, Matt. Pretty good.
    “Prudence? Prudence Malone? Is that you?” said Matt as he held a cardboard holder with four cups of beer.
    Oh my God. He sees me. This is it!
    “Hey, wow, I’m glad you’re here. Look who it is.”
    Note to self: Have doctor increase dosage on Paxil. Clearly not working.
    “Malone, my God! I almost didn’t even recognize you. You look great, so cool.”
    I didn’t look cool before?
    “Thanks,” I said instead. “You too. I mean you look great, not different or cool. Not that you don’t look cool, you do. It’s just that it’s not a different look for you. I mean, you always looked cool.”
    Shut up now!
    “Thanks, Malone,” he laughed.
    Great. As I crumble with social ineptitude, Matt is the picture of calm.
    It’s quite unfair how age makes men seem more