Saving Stools

On Friday night, SS, CS, and I and helped CH put in her new air conditioner in her new bedroom window in her new apartment in Prospect Heights. Afterward, we walked to Franklin Ave for pizza and sodas. The Yankees/Royals game was on an overhead TV, and Phish was playing on overhead speakers. A guy who looked like the prince version of the beast in The Beauty and the Beast ordered a slice to eat on a stool outside, and I swooned. He had dark, rusty hair that was pulled in a low pony tail at the nape of his neck. He was tall and wearing sneakers. He ordered pizza like a boss. Before we left, SS and CH were killer wing women and coolly attempted to give him my number. I waited outside around the corner while they asked about his relationship status first, and, as the story goes--he already has a Belle. This supports my theory that real princes are out there, but they're saving stools for someone else. Regardless, I'm glad they asked him, and I'm sure it made his night. The pizza was great. The Royals won.