I had a coffeeshop maybe-a-date yesterday with a guy I’ve
been interested in for a while. I was rom-com awkward and klutzy. He was either
very gentlemanly or not interested, maybe both. But my body gave me very good
news: I AM READY TO DO ALL THE THINGS!
We had a perfectly lovely and polite time talking
about all kinds of things. He’s a writer too! He has a cool project going that
he is super-passionate about, what could be more dreamy than that?!
I was tooooooooootally listening to what he was saying
but also, his hands. So big. So thick. So strong-looking. Oh boy.
Oh my. Oh swoon. Oh my goodness.
“These are very good hands,” I said “I bet they’re
very good for…hitting people. Like, on the butt.”
In fairness to my shy phrasing, the coffeeshop was
close to home and there was the real possibility of work clients overhearing. Despite
my awkwardness, he briefly wove our fingers together, like a combination of a
hand-hug and a vote of confidence. Yep, strong.
He had a call to get to (Or, “had a call” like a
get-out-of-date-free card?) so I didn’t get to take him home. (In a gentle show
of optimism, I had sort of tidied.) Instead, I stopped at the store to buy
myself flowers and had a VERY pleasant nap.
Ohfriends. It might not be this guy, but it’s gonna be
somebody. And they better WATCH OUT.
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