I told myself that after I made a spectacle of myself at that last party, I was never, ever going to hang out with Sam and her friends again. I did. I avowed it to several people, so I had to keep it because of pride and honor.
Of course, pride and honor don't really weigh in when by chance you run into one of her friends at the coffee shop, which you should've thought of as a possibility because he practically lives there.
The goddess of timing loves it when you avow things, I'm certain, because ten minutes earlier I related the entire party to Pamela over dinner, avowing, yet again, that I wasn't going to hang out with any of Samantha's friends, never ever. But of course, it took that length of time to wave down our waitress for checks, and of course, I wanted coffee, and of course who else would be sitting there when we walked in?
I mean, vaguely, in the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Ben sitting there, but he has a beard, and bearded men pretty much look the same to me, so I ignored that feeling when I strode into the coffee shop and queued with Pamela.
Of course, Ben, being who he is, was not to be ignored, and after much throat clearing, I had to pretend that I just happened to see him, sitting there with a girl. He was most likely--despite his pullover hoodie--on a date. Part of me felt justified in telling him not to cheat on his girlfriend at that party. Another part of me disliked talking to him when I avowed it earlier.
Being Ben, he went through the line with us as we waited, and as his date went back to work behind the counter because of said line.
When we left, fancy coffees in hand, Pam helpfully pointed out how funny this all was, especially since I said I was done with that crowd. Yeah, yeah, Pam. I just try to get away, and it just keeps pulling me in.
