She walked past me and her perfume trailed behind her like an invisible scented scarf. I couldn't help but follow the aroma like a trail of bed crumbs. She sat down at a small table at the café where we had both chosen to spend our afternoon. Usually the terribly timid one, I somehow found the courage to try to speak to her from a place somewhere within me that I have never visited before. I crossed the small and very quaint but very inviting coffee shop as I slowly…very slowly, but very surely walked over to her. The smell that came from the kitchen was relaxing but was nothing compared to the scent that she was emitting. As I approached her table, I noticed that she was writing something on a pad. Looked like a series of lines, kind of like a paragraph but not quite, and they all rhymed with each other. Then it hit me that she was writing poetry. "Duh!" It seemed that her perfume had caused me to lose my common sense along with my fear of talking to girls.
Suddenly realizing that a strange man was standing behind her, she slowly turned around. It was then that I noticed her shiny black hair about shoulder length and it seemed to drift more of her perfume toward me as she turned. Her brown eyes sparkled up at me and my voice got caught somewhere between my chest and the back of my throat. Taken back would be an understatement at this point. She stared up at me with one of those, "Can I help you?" glares. Before she could actually ask with her mouth, I answered her glare with a feeble attempt at a charming response. "Uh, hi" I know, I know, very far from charming but it's what I had at the moment. She replied back with another "Hi" and I couldn't help but just stare at her for a moment. She was like a fantasy that I never knew I had. Looking at her, I felt like life itself was possible. Like without all the trials and tribulations and difficult stuff.
Snapping out of my daydream, I realized I had been staring at her for quite some time without saying a word. Surprisingly, she was still looking back but her glare was getting increasingly impatient. Quickly I responded again with another "Hi" but this time I added my name afterwards and asked her if she came to the café often. Yeah, I understand not the most original question when trying to talk to a beautiful female who you sure would never give you the time of day even if you paid her but again it's what I had. Apparently thinking something similar she smiled at my question and replied with a "Yes". She then stated that her name was Shea she has never seen me in here before. I told her that I was new in the area and this was my first time in this particular café. I also told her it was weird because coffee always makes me sick but figured I would try a latte and risk my health. She giggled at my lame excuse for a joke and asked me to have a seat. Her smile was brighter than the sunlight that sparkled off of her hair to say the least.
As I sat down, I took the opportunity to notice the rest of her. Much more than merely just checking her out, I looked about her as if she were not human but as if she was a priceless work of art freshly created not even ready for the showroom quite yet. I realize comparing her to an inanimate object is not always flattering to women but this is what she reminded me of. She was light-skinned, almost silky looking. Before she sat, I noticed her body was curvy, not extremely skinny but healthy looking. But above all else, it was her smile that left a lasting impression in my memory. It was like a little person who lives in my brain used an even littler digital camera to take the most perfect picture of her that had ever been taken in the history of pictures of people.
The ensuing conversation between us was a very nice one. We exchanged tales of how we came to be and found out little things that we had in common. She shared her poetry with me, which turned out to be really good and I'm not just saying that. It was actually good; it spoke to me for some reason. Yeah, maybe her being breathtakingly gorgeous and smelling like a Bath and Body Works had something to do with it but it was some pretty creative work. The one she was currently working on spoke about some of the tough decisions she had to make during her life and I was able to relate. I don't know exactly how much time went by but it was beginning to get dark outside so we exchanged numbers and parted ways. I couldn't help but watch her walk away. I know what you're thinking but I wasn't staring at that, although it was very nice, that wasn't what I was looking at. Unexpectedly, she turned around and caught me looking at her and much to my delight, she smiled. I continued to look on silently as she continued to walk away. I continued looking hoping that I didn't manage to screw this up somehow. Hoping that one day we would be walking away together.
To be continued…
I decided to wait a couple of days before giving in to the burning desire to punch in the combination of numbers that she had written down on a coffee napkin into my cell phone. I dared not even program her name into it for fear that I may be jumping the gun on our non-relationship somehow. Try as I might to not think too much about her after our chance meeting because I didn't want to feel like a stalker, I could not. As a matter of fact, it felt like the harder I tried to delete that photo on the digital camera that the little person who lived in my head took, the more copies it made. Why am I so nervous? I've called girls on the phone before. Sure, I've always been a little apprehensive about that first phone conversation but this was on another level. I felt like it should be a piece of cake being that we had already sat and chatted in person. That is supposed to be the hard part, not talking on the phone.
I kept thinking that I forgot to smoothly slip in a question about her having a boyfriend or anyone who might fit the description of a significant other. But I kept reassuring myself that if she did, then she would have put that out there. You know, to make it clear that I had no chance. She probably wouldn't even have asked me to sit down. That's a pretty big, well, decent size step in the right direction, right? Yeah, it had to be. When I finally stopped acting like a seventh grader, I decided that the time was right. It had finally arrived, the moment when I pushed those certain numbers on my keypad and hit the talk button. As I listened to the phone ring, I half-heartedly kind of hoped that she didn't pick up.
*ring-ring*
I began to look forward to her voicemail answering because, well, other than the fact of me feeling like chickening out, I'm an ace at leaving messages.
*ring-ring*
If you need a message left, I'm your man.
*ring-ring*
I am a message-leaving connoisseur.
*ring-ring*
Nobody can leave a good message like yours truly…
*ring*..."Hello".
Even though I was thinking them to myself, I nearly choked on my words when I heard her voice. She almost sounded like a stranger to me, like I was hearing her speak for the first time again.
"Hello?"
…Realizing that I better say something before she decides to hang up, I spoke up and answered with a pretty pathetic sounding,
"Uh...Hi Shea, its Patrick, remember from the café?"
Partly expecting her to say no, I tried to prepare a clever joke at reminding her how we met. Yeah, remember me? I was the guy that you were probably thinking of upper cutting because I was staring at the back of your head. Ok, a not so clever joke then.
"Oh Hi! How are you? I was beginning to wonder when you were going to call."
Surprised and quite happy at her delighted response, I couldn't stop a pretty serious smile from spreading across my face. It was like my mouth had a mind of its own and wanted to show the entire world how I was feeling. Luckily the entire world at that moment consisted of me, my furniture, and the emptiness of my refrigerator.
"I'm good, just hanging out at home and figured I'd give you a call, how ya been?"
Can you tell how hard I'm trying not to sound like she had just made my entire month by simply answering her phone and remembering who I was?
"Well I'm glad you called, I've been pretty good, nothing special. You know, working and writing"
I'm going to take this moment to apologize for my constant admiration of all things Shea, but listening to her voice alone brightened up my day. Not saying that my day was sucky or anything like that, but it wasn't like anything significant happened to me that day. You know, pretty much your average weekday. Work, gym, some television, a little Xbox, nothing out of the ordinary. But hearing her speak made the entire day feel like a significant event had taken place. Ok, I'll try to hold back on the excess mushy stuff from now on but I can't make any promises. It's all her fault.
"That's good, so what are you writing about this time around?", I responded.
"Oh, just another poem, it's how I vent and deal with life. This one is about my grandmother. She passed away when I was a young age so I never really got to know her but I wish I did", she said.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that; how old were you when she died?"
"Thanks, I was around three, so of course I don't remember any of it but from what my mother tells me about her, I feel like we would have been very close"
I said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I have an uncle who passed away and I didn't really know him either but I think if I did, we'd of been good friends"
I was beginning to feel like Wow!, we are having yet another meaningful and fulfilling conversation. This would make it 2-for-2, but who's counting? Surely not me. We continued to talk for about two hours that night. Finally looking at the time, I noticed it was a little after ten and although I could have willingly continued to talk with her, I didn't want to exhaust all of our topics to speak about in one sitting. So I casually suggested (yeah, that's right, I can be casual) that we should get some rest so we'll have enough energy to talk again tomorrow evening. She said that she would like that and that she would look forward to it. We ended the call with a "Bye" and a "Good night Patrick". She said those last three words with a certain sweetness in her voice. It sounded heavenly, almost nostalgic.
Feeling like a very heavy sack of nervous bricks had been removed off of my shoulders, I felt like it was ok to program her number into my phone. Still trying to not get ahead of myself too much, I quickly closed out of my call log so as to not risk me staring at her name in it. Yes, I am a sap, we have already established this. Don't judge me. I clicked on the T.V. and turned it to Sports Center for two reasons. 1. I had missed the game because I was talking to a lovely young lady on the phone for the last two hours. 2. Concentrating on sports might help me to not concentrate on her, well not too much anyway. I decided I was going to try to take this one slow. I didn't know what she was thinking, although I did wonder, and I didn't know if she was considering me to be boyfriend material. She had to, a least a little bit, because that's how females operate. They run you through a boyfriend candidate database based on their strict criteria and decide in a matter of nano-seconds if you would fit into their lives or not. Not a bad thing really, actually pretty effective although not always efficient. But I wondered if I had been put through her database that day back in the café.
I shut my thoughts off and allowed the highlights from the day in sports to put me to sleep. Hoping that nightmares from my past regarding the opposite sex didn't replace the dreams that I hoped to have. Dreams that would surely be filled with Shea. Still remembering what she smelled like the first day I staggered over to her, I drifted off wondering about another chance. Another chance at happiness. Another chance at having a woman who actually likes me. Another chance, another chance, the two words lingered in my sub-conscious like the smell of Shea's perfume lingered in my nostrils. Yes, it has been two days, but I still remember what it smells like. Another chance, I guess we shall see.
To be continued…
The next day was a blur, literally. I truthfully cannot remember what I did. From waking up to showering to working to hitting the gym to eating a quick dinner, it seemed to go by so quick. At the same time, it went by ever so slow. Some points about it dragged on like they would never end. One of those days that you simply cannot wait to be over for whatever reason. But I had a reason, that reason was a certain phone call that I was looking forward to like a kid on Christmas morning. I planned to unlock my phone like I was unwrapping a present that I had waited all day to finally tear into. But that's exactly how I felt, like a kid. I forced myself to calm down and think like a grown-up who has actually been around females before. I was reacting to the situation like it was my first school dance or something. Not cool, I know. Usually I am the epitome of cool. Cool, calm, and collective...the three C's, that's what I was. But not now, I was a love-struck fool. Wait, no, I didn't mean to say love. Because I'm not in, around, or anywhere near that word. I couldn't possibly use that word again, ever. Could I? Not after the last time I used it. No, not, nothing L-wording about this situation at all. Way too early for all of that anyways. Focus, stop being an uh, like-struck fool.
I watched some television while I inhaled my frozen, semi-delicious dinner which I slaved over a hot microwave for about 5 minutes for. I nervously kept looking at the clock every 10 seconds to check to see if it was time yet. Time to call Shea. Time to finally put an end to the day-long torment that I had been putting myself through. Eventually the time had come and I reached for my cell phone. I picked it up, opened up my call log and scrolled down to find her name and immediately pressed talk. Suddenly I quickly pressed the end button and dropped the phone as if it were burning the skin off of my hand. I shouldn't call exactly at the time I said that I was. It would seem as if I was impatiently waiting all day for this moment. I obviously was but I couldn't let her know that. Not with only two conversations into our acquaintance-ship. So I waited, but wait, did her phone ring? Did I wait too long to press end? Did I catch it before her cell alerted her that I had called on exactly the minute and second combination that I told her I was? Before I could entertain any of these questions that were pouring into my mind like a thunderstorm, something made a noise. A noise that snapped me out of one of my many mini-comas.
A very familiar guitar solo played to my left on the couch where I was sitting. It was the guitar solo from Michael Jackson's Beat It. I love that song. Pay attention dummy, it was my phone and I had assigned that song as my ringtone. I quickly snatched it up and saw her name on the front screen. Her. Her not being someone I wanted to talk to right now. Or ever for that matter, but we were unfortunately linked by some unfinished business. I silenced the phone and let it ring out and go to voice mail. She can leave a message if she felt necessary but I wasn't going to allow her to ruin my evening by hearing her voice. I held the phone in my hand trying to not think of those memories that I worked so hard on blocking out and getting over. But it was not easy; it was very difficult as a matter of fact. Why was she calling me again? We just spoke last week and there was no need for her to contact me again so soon. Why don't you call your new boyfriend? I really don't want you being a part of my life anymore. The sooner you are completely gone, the better. The memories arose and broke into my heart like someone had just hit me in the chest with a shovel. A very big shovel. I couldn't believe after all this time they still felt so fresh and new like I was experiencing them for the first time all over again.
Just then, my phone rang again. The guitar solo broke the silence and my unwanted concentration on the thoughts that I was having. Hoping it wasn't her again, I hesitantly looked at the screen and saw Shea's name this time. A relatively small smile crept over my face and all of a sudden I forgot about whatever was making me feel bad. I was sure to let it ring a couple of times before answering. You know, to seem like I wasn't sitting there with the phone in my hand waiting for her to call. Sly move, I know. Finally, I answered it.
"Hello?" I said, trying to sound smooth which I probably didn't.
"Hi Patrick! How are you?", she responded. She sounded pretty happy to talk to me; I tried not to sound surprised but glad that she had called at the same time. But it was hard, her voice never got old to me. Sure, I've only heard it a couple of times, but it was so lovely, so inviting, so…perfect.
"Oh, I'm good, just finished eating and relaxing a little", I lied. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine, just fine…hey, did you call me a little while ago?"
I immediately felt my voice fall into my foot. Yeah, all the way into my foot. I quickly retrieved it so I could respond. "Uh, I think I might have by accident, my phone was on the couch and I accidentally sat on it by mistake." Accidentally sat on it by mistake? You said the same thing twice, dummy. It's a wrap, she knows you're full of crap. If she didn't know it before, that lone retarded statement helped her solve the case of you being full of crap.
"Oh, that's cool, yeah, that happens to me all the time. My friends are always calling me back and getting on me about my chronic 'ghost dialing'", she said.
Wow, either she bought it or she really does know that I am full of crap and is just being really nice about it. Either way, I'm just going to run with it.
"Oh yeah, it's the opposite for me. I'm usually the one getting the 'ghost dials' and yeah, I call my friends back and mess with them about it too. Especially when it's like 2 o'clock in the morning and I overhear a drunken conversation that they are having trying to pick up some girl at a bar. It's hilarious.", I told her.
"Yup, I'm all too familiar with those kinds of phone calls, but usually it's one of my girl-friends calling me on purpose so I can listen to some random drunk guy try to hit on them."
"Wow, I wouldn't be surprised if that random drunk guy is one of mine.", I joked.
"Haha, yeah that would be too funny, wouldn't it?", she laughed.
I'm going to take another moment to make it known for the record that I just made her really laugh. I made her chuckle a couple times at the café when we first met, but it was like one of those "LoL" chuckles that you would just text when you didn't feel like writing an actual response back. This was a full blown laugh this time. It made me feel good; I mean I'm just saying.
"So, how was your day?", I asked.
"It was okay, work seemed to drag on and on though for whatever reason. I don't know why, but it did." Same thing happened to her! See, it was meant to be. Relax there bro, everyone has long days. This is true, ok I'm back now.
"Yeah, mine too, like it was fast and slow at the same time. The slow times were mostly when I was working. Go figure.", I said.
"Yup, of course they are, because you're working, same for me."
"Any new poems today?"
"Nah, I wasn't feeling the inspiration today. Probably because my day was taking so long to end.", she answered.
"Yeah, boredom will kill inspiration in a second if you're not careful. Then it'll kill you."
"Hahaha, that is true. I felt like I was literally dying a slow, painful death today.", she laughed again. That's two. Ok, I'll stop keeping count now.
"So it's safe to say that nothing special happened to you today. You safely pulled yourself out of your boredom coma and was able to continue on with your life.", I said. Another attempt at a joke. I admit not a very good one.
"Haha, yeah, I'm completely conscious and alive now, thankfully. But, uh…my day wasn't completely uneventful. I really wish it turned out that way considering what happened." Her voice kind of trailed off at the end of her sentence as if she was ashamed to tell me. I wanted to ask but didn't know if I should. But she did start the story so in a way she probably wants to talk about it with someone. I'll be that someone.
"What happened?", I asked her.
"Um, well, I was in the supermarket this evening picking up some groceries and I ran into my ex-boyfriend. Well at least I thought I ran into him. Apparently he watched me walk into the store so basically he followed me.", her voice wasn't as happy as it was when she first heard mine. She sounded a little scared and freaked out. I wondered what this guy had done to her to make her feel like this.
"Wow, really? That's pretty scary to say the least. Did he do anything to you?", I asked.
"No, no, he didn't. Not anything terrible anyway. He took my hand in his and I pulled back and told him to leave me alone. He told me that he misses me and he wishes that I would give him another chance. I turned around and walked away without saying a word. Luckily he didn't follow me and I got out of the store as fast as I could. I just abandoned my cart of groceries in an aisle and left.", she began to stammer a little and I knew this was pretty serious. Trying to lighten the mood, I attempted another joke.
"So basically you're starving at home right now because you weren't able to buy any groceries.", I joked.
"Haha…hahaha…yeah, that's exactly right. I've been surviving on crackers and diet soda until I can muster up the courage to go back to the store.", she sounded happy again with that unexpected laugh that I gave her.
"Well, I'll tell you what, I'll go to the store with you tomorrow and we'll get you some groceries so you're not rationing crackers and diet soda like it's post-apocalypse times or something.", I offered.
"No, no, you really don't have to do that. I can deal with it, I don't want you to feel like you have to put yourself in that position. I wasn't trying to make you feel obligated by telling you that. It just kinda came out."
"I don't feel obligated; I just don't want you to die of starvation before I have a chance to ask you out."
More laughter followed and then she said, "Ok, ok, you can come with me but don't think that means that I'm growing sweet on you or anything, ok?", she joked.
"Not a chance, just helping out a fellow eater, that's all.", I joked back.
We continued to talk for about another half hour. I didn't ask any details about her ex-boyfriend. I mean, I wanted to know what happened, I really did. But it was her business and I figured she would tell me when she felt it was right. Plus, sometimes listening to girls (or guys) talk about their ex's is the direct path straight to the friend zone. I've been in the dreaded friend zone plenty of times. My female friendship passport is filled with stamps from the friend zone. I sometimes vacation there; it's not fun at all. I really do not want to find myself there again, especially with Shea. Not getting ahead of myself, but I would like to see what being more than friends feels like with her. I'm hoping that it feels better than the last time I managed to stay out of the friend zone. But I'll simply let nature take its course and see what happens. Maybe nature will be on my side this time. Nature owes me one.
Before we got off the phone, we set a time to meet at the local market for the next day and I planned on experiencing another fast and slow day. If just a phone call made me feel like that, imagine what an in-person meeting to look forward to will do. I decided that after our "shopping trip", I would try to muster the courage to actually ask her out on a real date. After the last couple of days and tomorrow, that should be a cinch, hopefully. She thanked me for listening to her story and bid me goodnight in that soft angelic but sexy at the same time voice of hers. I wonder if girls do that on purpose just to mess with guys. Make sure they keep themselves in his thoughts. I'm sure they do. Whether they do or not, it really does work. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and got into bed. No need for Sports Center tonight, this time it was her voice that lingered in my head and took me to sleep. Tomorrow held another day of firsts, first time my second meeting with a girl consisted of a grocery shopping trip. First time I would be escorting a girl somewhere because she seemed afraid of her ex-boyfriend. First time I would see her again since the café and quite possibly the first day of the rest of my life.
To be continued…
