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Falling in Love with Strangers

November 27, 2012

I have an active imagination and I am an eternally hopeless romantic. Always have been. Always will be.

I see a face in the crowd at a coffee shop, bar or dance floor and I latch on and my imagination runs away. One look and he’s perfect. He’s kind and funny and romantic and he will fall hopelessly in love with me.

“I was going to marry him,” I joked with Pickle after one such encounter.

I felt that way when I saw Tennis Bashir. I came around the corner and there he was. So tall. So beautiful. And that smile. I joked with Sam and Pickle that I didn’t want to meet him. It would ruin the fantasy. I was right. I ended up hurt.

The last few days I’ve been changing my routine a bit. My intentions are admirable. I need to make more progress on my work project. So, I’ve been taking my work to a coffee shop in the evening after my walk. Yesterday it was a young, Indian man sitting right next to me. I think I’ve seen him at the park lingering around the tennis court and hitting balls against the wall. He was working on a powerpoint presentation. I stole glances at him. He shook his leg up and down nervously like I do sometimes. When he talked to a professor that was also there I turned off my music so I could hear his voice. It was deep and soft. And that accent. What is it about that accent?! Within the two hours I was there, I was in love. When he left I watched him walk right up to the white sports bike parked in the parking lot. My God. He rides a motorcycle. Son of a Bitch!

Tonight I went back. To get some work done, of course. No motorcycle in the parking lot. I sat outside. I immediately picked out a cutie at my 12 o’clock. I think I’ve seen him there before, one afternoon when I was there building a diorama with Pickle. I thought he was looking at me then. I thought he might be again tonight but I’m not sure. He was laughing a lot with his friend. He talked with his hands so much I thought he might be using sign language. Very animated and engaging. I was in love again. Then he pulled out a cigarette. Damn. That might be a deal breaker. I could get him to quit, right? He’d do that for me, right?

When I collected my stuff and got up to leave he and his friend got up as well. Then they hung out inside for a minute looking at Christmas merchandise or waiting for me to walk by. That’s what I’m thinking. I put K’Naan on in my ear buds and walked out. They walked out right after me and caught me dancing as I walked to my car. I can’t keep still to Bang Bang. Maybe he’ll be there again next time. If he’s going to be my true love he needs to get his ass up and come talk to me!

The worst case of all happened months ago. I haven’t given him a nickname yet. Let’s call him M. Just M. I saw him one night at the Blue Moon. Short, goofy looking Indian dude. I know, I have a problem. He has this full head of curly hair that rises off his head a few inches and ends in a dreadlock-like tail. He’s short and has a high-pitched voice. He’s the most unlikely object of random attraction but I can’t help it. I saw him and I was hooked. That night I must have had a lot to drink. I saw him dancing with his friends to cajun music and I went up to him and asked him to dance. I’m usually very shy about that sort of thing. Mr. M is the first guy I’ve had a crush on that I’ve been forward with. “You’re really cute,” I told him. I even told the people he was with that I thought he was really cute. They all seemed surprised that anybody would think M was cute and kept telling me he was shy.

Pickle and I had been dancing together and we must have been very flirty and silly with each other because when I saw M at the bar and tried to talk to him he asked me if I was straight. Damn.

Since then I’ve seen him on many occasions. One night I completely ignored another guy who was all over me because I wanted to dance with M instead. By now, everybody knows I have a crush on him. Too many people. Sometimes he runs at the park. When I see him there he smiles at me at first, then he avoids my eyes. I love him so much. He won’t give me the time of day. Won’t talk to me. Won’t approach me. I guess he just doesn’t like me.

So… one seems to be interested enough to approach me or ask me out. There are no suitors on the horizon. I’ve decided to give up on the conventional idea of someone asking me out on a date. I’m just going to live in the fantasy world of my imagination and fall in love with strangers. And maybe stalk M a little bit. If I could just figure out when and where he’s going to be. That’s the flaw in that plan. Not enough intel.

It’s better this way. I don’t want to get to know any of them. They’ll just be disappointing and end up hurting me. This way I can get some work done and just look and wonder and imagine. Every day is a new opportunity to fall in love with a new soul mate.


From → Rantings

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