Jeff

I guess I can tell you about Jeff. I’m really relying on you guys not to judge me. I’ve done some really stupid stuff, but I think we all have at one time or another. So here’s the story of Jeff.

My senior year of high school, I got super sick. I felt gross all the time. I never wore makeup, stuck my hair in a messy bun and sweats were a staple in my wardrobe. I would sometimes venture out of the house to go to the grocery store or get gas. On one of these occasions, I met Jeff.

He was the gas station guy at Fry’s. He obviously loved his job. He was always walking around talking to people and laughing and smiling at them. He was real big on high fives and handshakes. For all the men and old people, it was a handshake. For all the women and children, it was a high five. He was a nice guy.

I was attracted to him from the moment I saw him. He was a little on the short side, but taller than me. He was physically fit and wore square rimmed glasses. He was a hipster before it was cool. I know the way I’m describing him, it sounds like he was somewhere around 18-21. Nah. He was 32. Just twice my age at the time. No big deal…

The first time we met was one of those nights where I decided to venture out of the house with my good friend Daniela. She started getting gas and I sat in the car with the door open. And that’s when I saw Jeff. He walked right up to us and said, “Hello Ladies! How are you doing tonight?”

We both smiled- Daniela did her awkward This-guy-is-a-weirdo-get-me-out-of-this-situation smile (Yes it’s a specific smile and I’ve seen it on many occasions) and turned back to pumping gas. I have a bad habit of being too friendly so I said hello and we struck up a conversation. He put his hand on the car and leaned in close to talk to me. He told me how beautiful he thought I was. I explained how ill I was and had been for the past several months and asked if he was usually attracted to pale, shaky girls with dark circles under their eyes and brittle hair that fell out at the lightest touch. He just laughed and told me my beauty couldn’t be dulled by even that. And I was hooked.

I started going to that gas station whenever I needed gas. Even if I didn’t really need gas but wanted to pretend to get some. And I always got dressed up. I would throw on my cutest outfit and attempt to style my hair so that I could cover up the bald spots. Whenever I came over the first words out of his mouth were always, “Hello beautiful!” I loved the attention. I was beginning to get addicted to it. I decided that I would take it to the next level.

The next time I went to get gas, I took my wing woman Deven with me. If you remember, Deven is the girl that I get in the most trouble with. We always manage to do something stupid when we’re together. I didn’t know just how stupid this was until after it all played out…

When we got there, I handed Deven my gas money and a crumpled receipt from walmart with my digits on it. (Did saying digits make me sound cooler? Cause in my mind, I sounded like a high male college freshman.) She walked it up to him and explained that it was from me. About a minute later, as I was trying to get my shaky hands to fit the nozel in my car, Jeff came striding over.

“You beautiful sweet heart. Was that number from you?”

“Ha yeah.” I laughed, getting embarrassed.

“I am so flattered. Thank you so much!” and then he kissed me on the cheek. I was dazed for a second. “You come back soon now and see me, okay?”

“hmhmhmkay” I smiled goofily.

When we got home and I was done freaking out, Deven and I were sitting on our beds discussing what had happened when I got a phone call from an unknown number. I answered and it was Jeff on the other end.

“Chelsy, baby, It’s Jeff. Listen. I am so flattered that you gave me your number, but sweetheart, I’m married.”

“You’re married?!?! Oh my goodness I am so sorry! Forget I even gave you my number. How embarrassing. I’m sorry!”

“Baby, baby, baby. It’s fine. Really. I’m flattered. Don’t be embarrassed. We can still be friends, right?”

“No, of course we can!” Yeah. An 18 year old girl can be friends with a 32 year old married man, right? Wrong. So very, very wrong.

We talked for a couple more minutes before hanging up. Deven and I died laughing as soon as I was off the phone. A couple minutes later, I got a text from him. He asked for a picture, so I sent him one thinking, “Yeah. It’s just for his caller ID. No big deal, right? Wrong. Big deal. Don’t give married men pictures.   About 12 minutes later, he texted me again for a “sexy picture showing a little more skin” I wrote the word “sexy” on my arm in green marker and took a picture of it. He acted like he thought it was funny, but I know what he was really thinking.

The next day, Deven and I got all dressed up to go “job hunting” we really just got dressed up to go get gas. We stopped inside Fry’s first to get a couple things.  When we were in the checkout line when I asked the cashier, “Do you know if Jeff is here today?” She looked me up and down and said, “Yeah. He’s here. Are you his wife?” “Uhm… no. Just a… friend.” I said tripping over my words. And then I got that look… The look I hope none of you ever receive. I got the You’re-a-dirty-ho-that’s-trying-to-break-up-a-marriage look. I felt awful. And I was about to feel more awful.

As soon as I got out of my car to start getting gas, Jeff walked right up to me, grabbed my face and kissed me full on the lips. I was dazed. I didn’t know what to do. I had always dreamed of being kissed like that- Just to be taken in someone’s arms and kissed spontaneously… but he was married. Married. Cheating is not an okay thing and that was what I was doing. I was having an affair with a married man kind of. My palms were getting sweaty. I didn’t like what I was feeling at all. He pecked my cheek and told me he would be over as soon as he helped out a couple people.

I sat on the trunk of my car and crossed my legs. I looked at Deven she looked back at me. She smiled mischeiviously and gave me the thumbs up. I shook my head and pointed at my left ring finger. Married, remember? She waved that little fact off. But I couldn’t. I felt tortured inside. True to his word, Jeff came back before my car was done filling up. He uncrossed my legs and moved in between them to kiss me one more time on the face. We talked for a minute because I still didn’t know what to do. 

As soon as I got home, I sent him a text that said, “Listen, I really like you, but I’m not going to help you cheat on your wife.” Not the best choice of words, but it was the truth. He replied,

“Baby baby baby if that’s what you think was going on here, that’s not it at all. We’re just friendly friends giving friendly kisses.”  Yeah. I make out with all my friends. It’s totally normal. Right.

So I said, “That can be what you think this is, but I am not comfortable with this at all”

And that was kind of the end of that. I didn’t really talk to him anymore and I started going back to AMPM for my gas. It was out of the way, but it was cheaper. And since I’m not into super old Indian men with long, white beards and turbans, I think it’s safe to say I wasn’t giving my number out to any married gas station workers.

I know what you’re thinking. Wow, Chelsy. How can you have no respect for the most sacred thing in the universe? You’re an awful person.  I thought the same thing for a long time. But I’m not like that anymore. I’ve learned my lesson and I’m not going down that road again. And once again, while I’m not proud of it, I don’t regret it because I learned a valuable lesson from it. So that’s the story of Jeff.