"Do you find
aloof attractive?" She asked.
She, being Sarah a friend and co-worker. Aloof, being the object of my
misplaced desire was a somewhat
hard to read counterperson at the local
large bookstore.
"I mean, she mostly ignores you and when she does speak she give you that whole leave me the hell alone glare, dontcha think?"
(Sarah loves this expression and swears she used it since junior high and long before that whole Grammy thing came along).
Well, I countered, maybe she just hates customers, I've seen her giggle with that goatee guy and she is always reading the coolest stuff. I glanced across the magazine section and there she was:
shoulder length hair, the color of quarterhorses, burgundy glasses, indefinite braclets and a cute pear shape. Man, oh man.
"I think you just want the unattainable, you're still in this please deny me phase, because of whatsherface."
Whatsherface being Michelle, my ex of six weeks and the
poison ivy of my dreams.
Ouch. Thanks a lot, like I need the reminder. No, that's not it, I think she would like me if she got to know me, I keep thinking if I ask for the right author or genre I will get her attention.
"OK, well you have tried Kesey, Ford, Autobiographies and Medieval literaure, I guess you only have about 4,000 broad categories left.. this should be fun, go get me another Cafe latte, stricken boy, see if that impresses her.."
I muttered something under my breath, as I watched her adjust her blue hair clips, staring absent-mindedly at a customer,
May I help you? She says, God knows, I think.
"Earth to Michael," she taps on my turned shoulder, "remember me and my thirst?"
Oh, OK, I say and start for the drinks counter.
"Hey, don't walk it by her counter" she shouts, as I am almost halfway, "I don't want it to get cold "
Big smile, proud of herself.