Strange Acquaintances with Not-Quite Strangers

The woman sitting next to me in the cafe today as I was sipping my coffee and finishing up two projects kept glancing at me.  We even made eye contact a few times.

Nothing sparked in my head.

Later, I had this huge stretch moment with back twisting and arms over my head letting out a nice sigh from the blood flow and she looked at me with a big smile.

It was like she was waiting for me to say something.


I smiled politely and went back to work.

She kept glancing as she paged through the paper and finished her black bean veggie burrito.

The guitar player was playing some nice Sunday morning music.  Background music but solid fingerpicking and strumming.  Great music to write by.

But I felt like I was under surveillance.  Why did she keep looking?   I didn’t even shave today and my hair is, well not the best it’s ever looked.

I took the headphones out of my bag and she watched intently, like she had never seen anybody dig into a bag before.  I tried to be all smooth like and non-chalant.  I’m pretty sure I succeeded.

“You’re name is Gabriel right?”


Shit, she knew me.

I drew a blank.  And then another.  It was brutal, I had to  come up with something…

Damn, not quick enough.

“I’m Athena, we’ve met before…”

“Athena!  That’s right…ahh how are you?”

“I’m doing great….”

Blah blah blah with all the prerequisite small chit chat.

I’m such an asshole, it didn’t even click to me.  At all.

We had met a couple weeks ago smoking outside The Cowgirl near bar close.  We struck up a conversation in Spanish and I half-assedly complimented her sonrisa y ojos or something lame like that.  Nevertheless we kind of hit it off and she gave me her number and a small kiss goodbye as her friends whisked her off.  She even looked back and smiley-winked before she got in the car.

Somehow I got the digits even though I most definitely had on my inebriation goggles.  This rarely happens, trust me.

I even called her before they left just to play the whole cute-meet thing to the max and this miraculously must have worked.

But then I never called.

I even had trouble remembering her name the next day because I just saved the number without her info cuz that’s how I was rolling by that time of night.

And so now today here she is, sitting next to me for a good hour just straight spying me.  She knew the whole time and waited for me to make the connection.

So yes, I failed miserably.  Suprise, suprise.

Anyway, we actually had a decent conversation as more details slowly crept back into memory.  And she was great about the whole debacle too, even reminding me a bit about our previous encounter.

She’s in landscaping, a vegetarian, taking some bio classes at Northern, older than me, by at least ten years I’m guessing, nice body tho, quick smile, and apparently still very interested in me… as evidenced by the fact that she extended the goodbye for a good five minutes, just waiting for me to say something that would convince her that we would in fact see each other again.

So I caved, what else is there to do in this type of situation?

“Well, I think I still have your number.  We should get together sometime…and…uhh…do something fun…?”

Do something fun…smooth as eggs, my friends.  Take notes.

“Yeah!  There’s always something fun to do, especially with other people.”  She gave me the half self-mocking smile which I took to mean that by ‘fun’ she had something rather explicit in mind.

She slowly gets up and gathers her things.

Me being the gentleman I am, get up with her for a hug goodbye.

The thing was tho that she really squeezed me tight and close to body.  She did the whole holding for that split second too long where you know she wants a lil more than just a hug.

I think she wanted me to give her a kiss to assure her I was actually going to call this time – she even tilted her head in toward my (not so massive chest) and turned her soft brown eyes upward.

I countered by giving her the ‘ol one-armed half-hug as I slipped my right hand around her (rather firm) side and turned her toward the door.

Gentleman, indeed.

But I still needed more convincing if I was going to actually call her.

So what do I do?

I examine her walking out trying to pick up a few non-verbal indicators that may seal the deal.

She’s got a nice and fit body (she bikes and hikes), a youthful bounce in her step with her new New Balances, and she does sport a cool set of designer shades to frame her auburn locks…

I mean I think I could see myself maybe quite possibly making this sort of call at sometime or another.

And I think I might considering a seemingly innocent purchase she had told me she made yesterday – and by seemingly innocent I mean not at all.

So what was this seemingly innocent purchase?

A ribbed cucumber.  From the Farmer’s Market.  For her own personal Valentine’s gift.

A ribbed cucumber.   I mean seriously, who tells somebody that they’ve only met twice about this type of purchase in a casual conversation?

And on Valentine’s day for jesu-cristo’s sake.

Even though she said it as a joke and she’s all homeopathic and vegetarian and older than me, you could detect the flirtation in the way she described how she put in her pocket and walked around all day with it.

I can picture it now and I’m distracted very much by the image.  I wonder what she was wearing yesterday?

So, OK, a ribbed cucumber.  But it gets a bit more, what’s the word, explicit.

She also picked up some liquid lubricant for some altogether other purpose (at least she so claimed).  I couldn’t let this one slide without noting the obvious connection.

She giggled and lightly scratched her neck as she gave me another glance with a raised eyebrow silently asking me to continue this line of thought.

“So, you come here often.”

Non-sequitors, baby.  Learn them, use them, reap the benefits.

So I don’t know.  I’ll probably call her in a moment of loneliness after a few libations to blur the age difference and my inherent social shyness, especially considering the somewhat awkward circumstances.

And you know she just knows certain things.

And maybe she has an awesome herbal supply so we can go all organic on each other if it comes down to it.

Or maybe we’ll never see each other again.

But her name is Athena and I’ve never been with an actual goddess before.


~ by garcialoca on February 15, 2009.

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