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August 9 1999
I'm pathetic. I am a sad, pathetic little girl. But the results of my actions turned out kinda ok. Maybe I'm not so pathetic after all. Thursday night, after work, I decided to stop by Starbucks. Hey, maybe D. had been working the night shift. Well, he was and had been all week. He was very busy behind the counter, but his face lit up when he saw me. "Hi Carol!" he exclaimed, looking like a happy little boy. "How was your vacation?" My heart pounded, my face felt warm and my knees shook. I responded to his question and we chatted briefly as I picked up my soy hot cocoa from him, but he was so busy that I didn't want to interrupt his work. So I just sat at a nearby table, read my Los Angeles magazine, drank my cocoa and munched on a cinnamon twist. The faint strains of light jazz wafted in from the street, where the block was closed off for a small outdoor concert. I was into an article about vegetarian meals to be had in L.A. restaurants when I heard D.'s voice over the whir/whoosh of the steaming milk. I looked up. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." "Mumble mumble nice mumble."
I got the jist of what he was saying, but I wanted to make sure, so I stood up and walked over to the counter. "Sorry, but I still couldn't hear you over the machines." "I said that you look very nice tonight," he replied, still slinging the mocha javas and frappacinos and who knows what other coffee delights.
"Thank you." I blushed, unsure of what else to say. When confronted with compliments, my first instinct is to brush it off with some self-deprecating answer, but I sensed D. wouldn't go for that. So I just smiled and looked at my feet. Then I looked back at him and waved my hand in a non-committal, aw-shucks-g'wan fashion. "No, I really mean it." He glanced at me, his dark eyes bright and shining behind his oval glasses. I noticed that the goatee was more like the beginnings of a beard, though still short stubble against his smooth, brown skin. He stopped making coffee drinks for a moment, leaned towards me. "I am really attracted to you. I mean, ooh, very attracted." The expression on his face made me think of a somewhat benevolent Big Bad Wolf to my Little Red Riding Hood. D. resumed his work. I smiled a little shy smile and gazed up at him through the tops of my glasses. "The feeling is very mutual." He stopped cold, his eyes wide and disbelieving, his jaw practically hitting the floor. I was a bit surprised at my own boldness, but I had resolved to be a bit more aggressive than I had been in the past. I also had the feeling he'd be receptive to it. I was right. Again a big smile flashed on his face. "I didn't expect that," D. said, getting back to the marked paper cups in front of him. People came around from the front of the counter to the side to wait for their drinks. Too shy to flirt with strangers surrounding me, I told him that maybe we should just chat sometime. "I'd like that." "I'll just wait until you're a little less busy.""Ok, that's a good idea."
I sat back down and slowly ate my cinnamon twist and drank my cocoa, still reading my magazine. The influx of customers slowed down, but he was cleaning and instructing some of the other employees (D. is a manager). A couple of times hordes of thirsty people descended upon the store, and later sent on their way with both frosty and hot drinks in hand. He and I exchanged glances and grins on occassion, but he still had to work. Finally I looked at my watch. Wow, it was 9pm! I hadn't realized how late it was. By this time I had finally finished my drink and danish and realized that I should probably get back to my kitties. Things had slowed down a bit, so I stood up and started gathering my stuff. "Are you leaving?" He looked disappointed. "Yeah, I should probably head home." "I was just about to take a break and I was hoping we could go outside and listen to the music." I thought about it for a moment, looked at my watch again. "OK, I suppose I could wait a few more minutes." His face lit up again. Asking if I'd like something to drink, I just said I wanted a little water, which he promptly got for me. After a few last minute instructions to his employees, we walked outside into the clear night air. I don't remember what was said as we strolled down the block, passing in front of the band and the folding chairs on the street. I just remember very little space between us, occasionally my shoulder brushing his arm. He warmly greeted some people that he knew, and I enjoyed watching the positive way in which they responded to that bright, friendly smile of his. We sat down on the cement wall of a planter and just looked at one another for a moment, unsure of words to use, now that we could actually talk for more than a minute of two. I asked about his trip to New Jersey. Unfortunately, he didn't go for fun. There was an illness in the family and he flew to Newark to be with them. Having just seen my own grandmother, who is very ill (but sharp as a tack), I knew a little of what he was going through. While I think it best not to divulge all that was said in our thirty minute talk (not to mention that you may find it tedious as hell), I will say that we talked of various light-hearted things, and frequently laughed and touched and looked and drank of each other with our eyes. He did tell me why he found me attractive (my warmth, spirituality, artistic sense, which he said he had noticed without my even saying a word), and I told him what I found attractive about him (his friendliness, intelligence, gentleness, all of which enveloped him, rather aura-like). We spoke of our mutual shyness, and became flustered when complimented by the other, and marveled in the comfort and ease of our conversation. On top of all this, there was a very strong physical attraction. Stopping myself from holding his hand, caressing his thigh, or just launching myself at him was very difficult. I could see that he was controlling himself as well. Sounds perfect, right? Well, not quite. For various reasons, which I really can't go into here (I feel I should show some respect for him), it would be unwise for us to enter into a relationship at this time. I told him about my reservations, which he understands and respects, and I found out about his, which I also understand and respect. So we'll just be friends for now. I have a feeling, though, that we'll have to be careful to always meet in public when we get together for a chat and a meal. Else our resolve will disappear all too fast. When his break was over, we walked back to Starbucks, still too close, and hugged good-night. I was back at home by 10pm, still mulling over the evening, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Could we really remain just friends for any period of time? Am I playing with fire? Probably. But D. is so magnetic that I don't think I can help myself, and I don't know if I want to. I'm going to have to do a lot of thinking about this one. Seeing his face when I close my eyes certainly isn't helping. Nope, it's true, I am pathetic. Take care! |
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JOURNALS I READ
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The Book of Rob - formerly Kalamazoo Days
LOS ALAMOS - by Joseph Kanon
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THE STAR TREK LEGEND OF 47sCourtesy of Land of Schlock:The 47s
Classic Trek
The Immunity Syndrome -- Scotty informs Kirk that the shields are at
47% and won't hold out much longer.
The Next Generation
Balance of Terror -- At one point the Enterprise has been "playing dead" for 9 hours and 47
minutes.
Obsession -- (This is episode #47 of the original series, by the way;
the title being "Obsession" was one of my early theories on why 47 was so
popular in Trek.) This episode features the Constitution Class USS
Farragut, NCC-1647.
The Loss -- Data says a velocity of warp six will bring them to T'lli
Beta in 6 days, 13 hours, 47 minutes. (No seconds.)
The Nth Degree -- The probe will overload the shields in 47 seconds.
Half a Life -- This episode marks the first
appearance of the number 4077, seen here on a panel in Engineering,
and lately seen on many a panel from DS9 to Voyager and beyond. It was
originally intended as an homage to David Ogden Stiers' tenure on
M*A*S*H*.
Can I Go Back to Francaise's Strand?
Well, ok.