|fresh | day old | links | e-mail | guestbook | diaryland|
2003-07-23 | 11:34 p.m.
corduroy licorice was helping his niece move her barbie doll toys from upstairs. she grabbed the customized van and told corduroy to bring down the house since it was too big for her to carry.
this week i experienced a walk-by flirting. it was one of those mutual sparking moments that so rarely happen in the everyday hum of life.
i was sitting in my office, working a little late and minding my own business, when a 30-something guy who i'd never seen before walked by. as he passed, we exchanged smiles and eye-guided attraction missiles.
suddenly he stopped and popped his head around my office wall.
"i like your hair," he grinned.
"likewise," i replied tartly, feeling very quip-a-minute carrie bradshaw all of a sudden.
"what's your name?" he asked, as i eyed his extremely well-formed nose.
"nictate. what's yours?"
"tony," he answered, reaching out to shake my hand.
"are you freelancing here?"
"no, i work with one of your vendors."
"oh." i tried to think of some way to extend the conversation nonchalantly, but nothing was coming to me. apparently, sarah jessica parker had slipped out for a triple expresso unannounced.
"well, nice to meet you," he mumbled, as he made a smiling, but awkward exit, seeming to want to leave before his welcome wore out.
"you, too," i said to his back.
twitterpaited was i, and how. talk about instant gratification delivered to my door.
where did that come from? and would it come back? i imagined him making an excuse to return. or even better, sending flowers the next day with a note explaining that i had knocked his socks off and how about dinner on friday? then i pictured our first date. well, second, if the friday dinner thing worked out. yep. on the second outing we would definitely go see a band. with his hip-ish black t-shirt and chin-length hair, he definitely gave off the band-seeing kind of guy vibe.
for the moment, i was content with my daydreaming. i considered inquiring about him around the office, but didn't want to seem too interested.
two days later, i realized that there was one co-worker who i could trust with such a potentially embarassing inquiry who might have actually had contact with the guy.
i approached her in neutral territory, by the printer.
"um, cheryl, did you happen to work with so-and-so vendor on this so-and-so project?"
her answer was in the affirmative.
"because there was this guy who stopped by who was pretty cute."
her eyes left mine and followed the creeping edge of her incoming paper print-out.
"yeah. he was pretty cute," she smiled.
yeah? yeah? yeah?!
"but he's a freak," she blurted out, way too emphatically.
"oh, really?" i queried, hoping that she meant freak in a guy-who-goes-to-see-breaking-bands-that-everyone's-going-to-be-talking-about-next-month-and-really-uninhibited-in-bed kind of way. right?
"yep. a freak. and there's not too many people i'd use that phrase to describe." her right eyebrow shot up in a "don't ask, don't tell" kind of way and her voice was spread thick with ominous-ness.
my mind reeled. what could this guy have done in the course of business that could have caused this warm and friendly gal to categorize him as unsafe for human consumption? something told me i didn't want to know. i wasn't meant to know. i'd sleep better if i didn't know.
"what a shame," i murmered as she and i parted ways. she shrugged apologetically.
so here i am getting one of those thrice-in-a-lifetime first glance lava lust moments with a guy i'm instantly attracted to and it turns out that he is a freakazoid of unspeakable proportions.
i have just one thing to say about that.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry