(no subject)
It's happened before (meeting lurkers by chance,) and my reaction is always the same. 'How did you find me?' I didn't want to take my chances with a psycho stalker, especially one who'd gotten this close. Usually people IM me, or spot me on the street, or hit me with their car; a text message from a cell was an entirely different matter.
'This must look bad, but really, it was just a happy accident that I got your cell number. A guy I'd met at a club gave me his digits but I put my jeans into the wash,' she said with a sheepish grin. 'You know, I figured this might freak you out, so here's the piece of paper that Gabe gave me!' She handed me a fragile, matted sheet of paper, carefully folded in the middle, and it was soon apparent that it could be legit. She bit her lip and rocked back and forth on her heels. 'So...is this cool with you?'
'Wow! It totally looks like my number!'
'Umm...Jonny?'
'Oh yeah, sorry,' I said with a slight smile. 'It's alright. Drink?'
I guided her into the dimly lit, mostly empty pub. A disinterested waitress took our order and soon we were getting to know one another over drinks. 'Well, I figure you already know quite a bit about me, but I know absolutely nothing about you. What do you do for a living? Does it involve wearing spandex pants?'
'I'm a stripper, actually.'
I choked on my screwdriver momentarily, when she had a good laugh. 'I'm kidding! I'm a dental hygienist. We probably saw each other at school and never realized it.'
'Class of 2002?'
'Oh, well, 2003 then. But I did order food from the cafeteria whenever I was in the area. There was this one Asian guy who did a little dance whenever someone ordered the chili con carne.'
'Did he look like this?' I whipped out my old identification card and gave her a look. 'Hey, so you are the chili dancer!'
Things were going smoothly. Among other things, we talked about some niche Hong Kong flicks, techniques for winning every round of Bomberman, and why 'El Mariachi' was in fact, the best pick of Robert Rodriguez' mariachi flicks.
'This is going so well...I hope things don't get fucked up, now.'
We paid the tab and walked around the airport in an attempt to sober up, and in doing so, ran out of things to say. An airport doesn't really offer much in the way of instant conversation pieces, other than, 'Hey! Auto flush toilets!' She stopped suddenly and asked, 'Hey, if I'd asked to meet you earlier, what would you have said? Like you have no idea what I look like, or what I do, or even if I'm actually a woman.'
'Ummm...I probably would've said yes, and it probably would've been a lot like this. Only y'know, not in the airport and stuff.'
A huge smile lit up her face. 'Just as I thought.'
'How do you mean?'
'I was a little afraid you'd be one of those fake writers. You know, really nice on the outside, complete assholes when you want to hang with them.'
'Uhh...and how do I come off online?'
'Edgy, but sweet.'
'And in person?'
'Hot, in a geeky, metrosexual kind of way.'
'Hmmm...I'm not quite sure how to take that...'
'I'll make it simple.'
She leaned in, grazed her cheek with my nose, and gently brushed the side of my lips with her own. She backed off and bit her lip, with open eyes. 'Simple enough?'
'Uhh...yes, yes. Simple enough.'
'Yay!'
I took her by the hand and we just kept on walking. I started getting thoughts that I might kiss someone at the stroke of midnight. I mean, she'd made the first move and by this time we'd barely known each other half an hour. 'So how come you wanted to meet at the airport? Wouldn't it have been simpler to meet somewhere in town?'
'Actually, I'm leaving for Toronto in a little while.'
'How little of a while?'
'Umm...I've gotta be back at the gate in ten minutes.'
'Fly-by dating?'
'No, silly! I'm sort of moving there.'
'Ohhhhhh, okay. Well, we should get a move on then, eh?'
Deflated? Yes.
Defeated? No.
'Well, Sheena, in the space of fourty minutes we've met, flirted, and had lip contact. Not bad, eh?'
'Hey! I kissed you. You totally didn't kiss back. Way to wig out on it!'
'You must've known this was coming.'
I returned the favor, with interest, and sent her on her way. 'Tell me you'll write about this!'
'Do I have a choice?'
'No! You don't!'
I managed to catch a cab on the departures level and headed off for the house party. Ten blocks short of the destination, I asked the cabbie to stop and let me off; I had some thinking to do.
'Aaah, it's not all bad. Everything will be fine! I wasn't depressed or anything, just...buzzed from such a brief encounter, and the whole thing was breakup free!
After the party (you know, good drunken fun, lots of talk about sex, the occasional unitard or two, photos to come...eventually) I chanced it and walked the three kilometers home.
I rang in the New Year with fog on my face and a surprise waiting for me in the morning.