Ringo was going to be staying home with Paul. He didn't seem to mind,
for some strange reason. Paul was slumped in a chair, a sad frown on his
face. John would be tagging along as sort of a spy. (In the same tone he
had reacted to the word "dump", Paul said, "You're more of an...operative.
Spy is such a nasty word.") But George was supplying enough happiness for
the entire city of New York on a bad day. He slid into the front room on
his newly polished boots and playfully punched Paul under the chin.
Love At First Date
"Cheer up," George said. "I'm not going to steal her from you."
At least he thought he wasn't.
"I think Paul would like to see that in writing. Heh, heh," John
"Do I threaten you?" George was surprised.
"No, of course not. I'm the cute one, anyway," Paul said, finally
George laughed heartily. "That's the old Paul."
Ringo frowned. "Hey, George, you're only wearing a shirt and
pants. I thought you were going to wear your suit. Mr. Mousie says you
would look 100% better in a suit."
"I don't accept fashion advice from rubber squeaky toys. Besides,
I can't think of a tie," George said. "I wear my black one too much, and
my blue one is splattered from that tomato surprise I tried last Wednesday
at the Gordon party."
"How about the red and gray one?" Paul asked.
"I don't have a red and gray one," George explained.
"My red and gray one," Paul replied. "She likes it."
"If you're sure," George said, accepting the tie. "I really don't
want to feel like I'm threatening you." He tied it on and put on his black
John retreated to the kitchen and came back with two wrapped
packages. "Never go all night dancing on an empty stomach," he said, giving
George opened it and saw that it was a cheese and pickle sandwich
on pita bread. He took a bite. "Bleah! This tastes terrible!"
"I know," John said, his mouth full. "I've been saving them for
the past month."
"Ugh!" George dropped the sandwich in the wastebasket. "I think
I'll make a fresh one." George could not feel Paul's eyes burning holes
through his back as he walked to the kitchen.
About ten minutes later, George checked the clock and saw it
was almost seven. He picked up the car keys and said, "We're off. See you."
Goodbyes were exchanged, and Paul gave George some last-minute
directions- "Don't lay a finger on her." With that, George stuffed his
hands in his pockets and swung out the door, John following him.
Julie sat up in her bedroom, waiting. She had forgotten what
George looked like. To refresh her memory, Julie walked over to her records
and picked up a Beatles album. Natasha rubbed against her legs and purred.
"No, Natasha," Julie said, "I'll be back soon." She picked up
Natasha in one arm and looked at the album. Her heart sank. George Harrison
looked like a creepy rat with one long eyebrow. Julie grimaced as the doorbell
rang. She put Natasha down on the bed. Julie didn't have time to make her
hair messy so she ran downstairs.
George pulled up into the driveway. Julie's house was a modest
little place. It was two stories but still quite small. He thought it looked
cute. All of a sudden, George realized his seat belt was caught. While
George tried to undo his seat belt, John got out of the car and walked
up the path to the porch. The path was bordered with assorted roses. He
inhaled deeply and sighed. Walking up the steps to the porch, he rang the
doorbell. John wondered why he was coming along in the first place.
Bracing herself, Julie opened the door. Natasha skittered outside.
"Mr. Harrison?" she asked.
"Nope," John said. "John Lennon. I'm coming along, if you don't
"No, not at all...Where's George?" Julie craned her neck.
"Seat belt's stuck. He's in the car, trying to get it loose."
John put his hands in his pockets and waited.
"Thanks for telling," George said a moment later, walking up
the path. "Julie?"
Julie was not greeted by a rat with one long eyebrow. She was
greeted by a Beatle- but she wasn't paying attention to the eyebrows! He
looked- dare she think it- even cuter than Paul! And that had to be pretty
George had seen Julie before and thought she looked nice. But
tonight, she didn't look nice- she looked absolutely magnificent! George's
heart thumped as if Ringo himself was inside him. John stood back and watched
George's facial expression turn from one of confusion to a sheer stupor.
It was hilarious.
There were a few minutes of dead silence. Julie waved them inside
the house. Then- a few more minutes of dead silence.
"So," George said with a smile.
"So," Julie replied.
"So, we're going to be late," added John.
"Oh! Right!" George jumped. "Sorry, come on." The three walked
down the rose-lined path to the car. George opened the door for her with
a flourish, and Julie had to stifle a laugh. John reminded himself to tell
Paul what a ham George was that evening. They drove off towards The Club.
George couldn't find a parking space that was very near The Club,
so he had to park a long way off. Julie didn't mind this, and neither did
George. But John didn't like it that much because he still had a few blisters.
However, it had been raining again and puddles were everywhere. Julie's
shoes were white, and very expensive. Soon they came across a rather large
They stood there for a moment. Without a second thought, George
took off his jacket and gallantly laid it down over the puddle. John cracked
up and went on ahead in a different route. Paul was going to love this.
It was an expensive jacket, but what was a regular old jacket compared
to Julie's cute little shoes? Or cute little Julie, for that matter?
Julie gave George a funny look. Even Paul, who was comparable
to Sir Galahad, never thought of doing that.
George smiled. "Go on. It's already dirty, might as well use
Julie shook her head and walked over it. By the time she had
walked over George's jacket for the tenth time, they were doubled over
in laughter. George had a cheerful mind about it. Besides, it could dry
at the coat check. He knew he wouldn't need it while dancing. People stared
at them, which just made George and Julie laugh harder. When they finally
stopped laughing at the door, George held up his jacket, took a look at
it, and cracked up again.
George recognized the voice coming out of the speakers when they
walked onto the floor. He cracked up yet again. The song was "I'm Happy
Just To Dance With You".
"What, did I do something wrong?" Julie asked, concerned. "Or
are you thinking about your jacket again?"
"No," George said, recovering. "That's me."
"Huh?" Julie asked.
"You know, the band I'm in," George replied.
"Oh!" Julie exclaimed. And so George sang along with the rest
of the song as they danced.
After they had danced furiously for a while, the lights turned
a bit lower and prettier. Instead of a fast-paced rock song, a slow tune
flowed from the speakers.
Julie looked awkwardly at George. George looked awkwardly at
Julie. It was a very sticky situation, since it was what she and Paul knew
fondly as their song. Julie felt strange dancing to it with another guy.
So they started to dance clumsily. They looked like two little second-graders
at an elementary school dance. At least George didn't suffer from foot-stepper-onner-itis.
John had been watching for some time, and thought that they needed
a little push. Literally. So he grabbed the hand of a lady who was just
standing alone and danced toward them. John quickly bumped into George.
George keeled over until he was nose to nose with Julie.
2 and a half