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Driving Me Crazy
Topic Started: Oct 10 2015, 09:59 PM (539 Views)
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Who is this sassy lost child
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((Cristóbal Morales Pregame Start))

Well, this was awkward.

Officially, Cristo, his mother, and Dominic were at Mannie's for "family fun time". In theory. In reality, these outings usually ended up feeling more like "Cristo is a third wheel" time, where he tried to fade into the background while Mom and Dominic made doe eyes at each other. He didn't hold it against them, of course, it was just... so very, very uncomfortable. Plus they always looked guilty whenever they inevitably remembered he was standing there and he had to keep reassuring them it was okay, only for the cycle to start all over again.

So awkward.

He'd taken preemptive action this time to avoid all that, telling them that he wanted to go to the batting cages and they should just enjoy their golf game. His swing could always use some work, anyway. There were the usual attempts to include him, but he'd made his escape fairly easily. He'd decided to indulge his sweet tooth before setting himself up at the cages, slipping into the ice cream line just behind a familiar girl. Wasn't she the one who spent a lot of time with Irene? Sandy?

No, Sandy didn't sound right. Cristo frowned as he studied the back of her head, trying to dredge the right name up from his memory.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Cristóbal took a surprised step back as the girl made her haphazard selection and turned, not wanting to end up with her ice cream all over his shirt. That would have been just great, wouldn't it, running into someone from school and ending up covered in their food without even exchanging greetings. Then he'd have had to wander all around the park with ice cream all over him until he found Mom and Dominic and they'd have to stop their game just to take him home so he could change and everyone would be looking at him and...

Oh. Oh God. Going out in public was always such a mistake. Why did he do this to himself?

He became aware that he and the girl had been giving each other nearly identical deer-in-headlights looks for a few long moments now, and he coughed awkwardly. "Hi... Sandy?"

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Sandra. Right, okay. Not as wrong as he could have been, and she didn't seem bothered, so that was good. She called him Cristo instead of his full name, so he didn't have to feel too bad about technically calling her by a nickname, right?

He nodded, taking another small step back from her just to be sure he was safely out of range of any ice cream spills. "Yeah, that's right. Um, I'm here with my mom and her boyfriend. Or, well, they're over there playing golf, but I was going to go over to the batting cages. Work on my swing since baseball season's coming up and all."

He half-crossed his arms, grasping his elbow in lieu of anything else to do with his hands. "Uh, what about you?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Cristóbal couldn't help but wince as Sandra's ice cream went plummeting to the ground. It was a good thing he'd stepped back from her when he did, or that would be all over his pants. Wandering the course until he located his mom and Dominic with ice cream on the front of his pants would have been way worse than with it on his shirt. A few little blots of ice cream still ended up on his shoes, but that was barely worth thinking about compared to the crisis that could have been.

It was hard to breathe a true sigh of relief with Sandra looking so dejectedly at her fallen snack, though. Cristo squeezed his elbow and glanced up at the ice cream stand's menu. It wasn't very much for a single scoop cone...

"You know, I haven't bought anything yet. I mean, that is... would you, uh, would you like another ice cream? I have some extra money..." His voice had all but completely trailed off by the end, but he expected that Sandra got his point.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Who is this sassy lost child
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Cristo nodded. "I don't mind." Sandra didn't seem to think his offer was too out of bounds, and he'd feel bad if her day out was brought down by some accident when he could do something about it. She was nice, or at least not unpleasant, so his immediate instinct to escape from the conversation as quickly as possible had eased off somewhat.

"What flavor did you want?" He hadn't been paying attention to her ice cream beyond trying to avoid getting it all over himself, so he had no clue what flavor it had actually been. Come to think of it, what flavor did he want today? Normally he went for strawberry, but plain vanilla also sounded good and refreshing on a warm day like this. And then there were the more novel flavors, and the sherbets...

Decisions, decisions.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Cristóbal bought Sandra some ice cream and did something else with the rest of his day.

((Cristóbal Morales continued in I could live in the world just like a stranger))
Edited by backslash, Feb 24 2016, 04:05 PM.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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