Not to be out done my grandma shared a story of how I loved to play Cowboys and Indians with my brothers.  Spencer always wanted to be the Indian and she would play the part to the max my grandma said.  She had her hair in braids and ran around with nothing on but a ‘loincloth’, which was just two towels tucked into the front and back of her underwear.  She would put war paint; purple was her favorite color, on herself and her favorite little pony, Chester.  Then she would spend all day on Chester chasing Clay and Glen around with stick spears.  Ashely and her grandma loved the story and I was handling it ok.  Until, my grandma pulled out a picture from her wallet to prove it.  She handed it to Ashley who burst out laughing.  My embarrassment was complete.  I had seen that picture.  I was standing on the back of my pony with just a pair of underwear on covered in purple paint, braids all askew and menacingly holding a stick meant to be a spear.

Thankfully no other stories came out and the rest of dinner was spent with random conversation.  It was only 8 when we finished dinner and said our good byes to our grandmas as they left for pinochle.

“So you probably have lots of studying to do tonight, huh?” Ashley asked as were driving back to my place.

“Well actually I caught myself up last night because I wasn’t sure how long our grandmas would keep us occupied” I replied.

“Oh, cool” Ashley said. We both knew it was still fairly early and we had open time but we weren’t quite sure how to ask if we wanted to spend it together.  Silence filled the cab of her car.  My hands started to fidget nervously.  I never had trouble asking girls out before.  How was this so different?

“So do you wanna come to my studio for a bit?” I finally blurted out. “You know, just to talk and hang out.” 

Her smile was radiant.  “That would be great. How about I drop you off and run home quick like so I can get into something more relaxed and I will bring over a bottle of merlot?” She asked.