So there I am.
Amidst the crowd of wedding guests, perfectly framed against the ivy-covered marble archway, sipping on a champagne cocktail. I stand out from the sea of black and white, resplendent in my bright turquoise dress. I’m feeling regal and divine.
The waiter comes by with a fresh tray of drinks and people gather around to get one. I hear a deep voice behind me saying “Excuse me, could I please grab that cider?” I turn around and there he is. This Adonis of a man. Tall, dark, lean and handsome. Chocolate brown hair, lovely tanned skin and these big brown eyes. Tux so sharp it’d cut your eyes out. Gorgeous smile. I gaze upon his beauty for a second and then think to myself, this is it. This is the story I’m going to tell my grandchildren about how I met the love of my life.
I hear my friends’ lectures ringing in my ears: “YOU HAVE TO PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE!” I quickly decide to serve up some good old-fashioned sass. “Ooh you’re lucky” I say, “I was about to nab that cider.” He laughs and gazes into my eyes.
We start chatting away. He seems genuinely interested in hearing what I have to say. I am pretending to be genuinely interested in what he has to say, but really I am drinking in the sight of him and picturing us holidaying in the wine country, laughing and holding hands at a farmers market, kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower. We have so much in common, it seems. He too is looking to make a career change. He too is scared but excited about taking the leap. We are two peas in a pod.
Suddenly he says “Ah- I see someone I know over there, let me just pop over and say hi.” I graciously agree and step aside, smug in my knowledge that he’ll be right back with an idea of where we should go on our first date.
I don’t see that mofo again for the rest of the night.
Actually no, I did see him twice later on. He was sitting at the table directly opposite me, making a concerted effort not to look my way. And then I was standing next to him at the bar waiting to get a drink- he didn’t see me because he was deep in conversation with a tall blonde who looked like she was in dire need of a good meal (just saying).
Do these things happen to other people, or just me?