He’s 32 and I don’t care

About a month ago, there was a mandatory briefing. I sat down, and the instructor came in. He walked with confidence, in that Irish way. He was a slim man with muscles and brown hair who fights fires for a living. I can dig that.
He was also a bit higher ranking than me, so I dismissed him from my mind (although whenever I saw him walking around after that it made me a bit giddy).

Two nights ago we had a Christmas party for the Squadron, and it was some party. Everyone had a grand old time with too much eggnog and dancing. My table was full of unruly drunk people by about 10pm, so I moved to sit with my friend. She was a bit drunk, and the guys she works with kept bringing her more alcohol (the officers had made it an open bar at that point. Silly officers. Testing how much we can drink. I’m sure they’re all broke now), so I decided it would be good to sit with her.

That didn’t last long (I checked in with my friend later. She was fine). The man from the briefing walked by moments later and I couldn’t help but eye him. He smiled at me, and kept walking. A few minutes later he walked past again, this time asking if he could buy me a drink. So we went to the bar and started chatting while we waited.

By the time our turn came for drinks we were in a pretty deep discussion about philosophy. It was loud inside, so we moved just outside the door where there was a couch, and the conversation continued and went on to politics, hiking, current headlines, the Sunday crossword…anything we could think of. He commented at one point that I was far more articulate than he expected me to be, and I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not until he reminded me what Squadron we work in and that most of the people we work with don’t read anything ever (on purpose. What is wrong with them?).

It was adorable. While we were speaking, sitting on opposite ends of the couch (a three seater), every single person from my flight came up at one point or another to make sure I was okay. When Sgt J came up he said, “Molly, I’m a Dad, and I want to make sure you’re okay because I would not want my daughter to be sitting here alone with a man she doesn’t know”. I told them all thank you for caring, and that I was fine.

And boy was I fine.

The next morning, he woke me with a cup of coffee and read me the news and even threw in some literary jokes. Also, I noticed that there were no pizza crumbs in his bed – which is a really nice change.

He had to be at work earlier than me, so he gave me some clothing (“you are not going home in the cold in that damn dress. And I wish I had size tiny shoes for you to wear so you didn’t have to wear those heels”), called me a cab, and then paid for the cab.

And people say that chivalry is dead.

Guys can I keep him?

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6 thoughts on “He’s 32 and I don’t care

  1. madhousewife says:

    I certainly hope so!

  2. Hey! Some of us are in our early to late thirties.

    I can’t really think of anything to say about Santa and presents and chimneys that isn’t just awful. So I’ll just say merry Christmas!

  3. bearonthecouch says:

    This is a beautiful story. Even more so because it really happened!

This is where the cool people talk about Pirates.

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