After the long evening with mismatched ideas, they left the restaurant’s warm glow for the sky of the waning moon ready to utter the parting words of their meeting. He leaned in for more than a hug, and her lips were repelling his polarity as she avoided with subtle grace. Good-bye, thanks-for-dinner-and-laughs exchanges were had, yet he lingered, hinged on the moment.
“Shouldn’t we kiss?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said.
“So I got an email back saying the guy at the t-shop is ‘NOT single’” I said to my friend with the built in single-radar. “All CAPS, and underlined. I was surprised it wasn’t bolded. Or that she didn’t send a howler…,” I laughed.
She smiled. “We’ll keep working on him. Every Sunday we’ll go in, you try something on, and come out half naked begging for help with the “zipper.” When he gets close and realizes there is no zipper, that’s when you fall in his arms, giggling the whole way down. You’ll break him down in no time.”
As the little cute one was leaving the fireside chat under the witness of the waxing moon, Orion and the Pleiades, she walked up the stairs to the sidewalk and turned to wave good bye to the host on the patio.
“Hey, we’re the same height,” he said.
She gave him a blank stare, thought to herself “yeah, like I haven’t heard that before…,” and turned and walked homeward.
After the fashion show fitting and light downtown try-on sampler at a local t-shirt shop for Burtonian fashions of the black and white striped genre, my tall fashionably correct and stunning friend and I basked in our overall loveliness at a local vegetarian eatery for some model soup and a big piece of black berry pie (model approved).
In thinking about the guy working at the T-shop, I asked “Do you think he is single?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said with an added laugh. “He wasn’t hitting on me, so I have a hunch he’s committed. I know that sounds so bad…”
“But it’s SO true,” I said. “You’re like a barometer of singleness.”
To: Topo Ranch, Boulder
Sent: Mon, April 11, 2011 5:31:38 PM
Subject: sunday stripes
Hi! this past Sunday evening I ventured into the boulder store before dinner with a friend to try on that amazing long striped dress in the window. And while it made me look like Cindy Lou Who of Whoville and I could make two outfits with it if I hemmed it, the guy that was working there that night was really nice, funny and cute.
Is he single?
Hope you had a rad sunny Monday.
:) Ali
I’ve felt this once, and throwing things helps, indeed.
What to do in relationship?
It’s not about tongue and technique – per se – it’s about what happens when you meet someone an the same point in the space-time continuum and you touch. How does this dynamic play out (and within)? And, do you ever really know the other – or do you simply play in the space between with your own reflection or an illusion of who’s in front of you?
A Story
Place: coffee shop
Time: Valentines Day, late afternoon EST
Cast of characters:
3 men at nearby table (#3 was very up on Lady Gaga)
A Girl
A Boy
The scene: what transpired was a discussion about Valentines worth eavesdropping in on:
Man 1: “When I was dating, every day was valentines day.”
Enter girl: she sits down. obviously looking around for someone.
Enter boy: boy comes over with small white box with pink ribbon.
Man 3: “Hey check this out…” (watching as boy gives girl the box)
All three Men turn.
Man 2: (stops mid-turn) “Only let me know to turn around when there is something to see…”
Man 3: “But he gave her a valentine… Spring has sprung and love is in the air.”
Man 2: “Love is always in the air.”
(* * * Footnotes: Estimated avg. men’s age = 70, and holding at awesome.)
She headed to the climbing gym to spend lunchtime on the rocks.
While she was waiting at the front desk to sign up for her membership, she noticed the route setters reworking the wall across from her. Their rugged landscape added beauty to the scenery indoors, and captivated her gaze for a moment whilst one stunning adonis effortlessly removed the t-shirt covering a torso sculpted by a devotion to his craft. It would be a lie to say she was not rendered breathless for an instant, or five.
And when her wits returned to filling out the form in front of her, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was all part of the marketing.
#beautifullystrategic
In alignment with my theory of “be amazing together,” perhaps this is the mystical image-feeling behind it:
“The sun never says to the earth,
‘You owe me.’
Look what happens with a love like that.
It lights up the whole sky.”
- Hafiz
