I believe I left you off eight years ago with a very disturbing first phone call between me and Deep Throat, a.k.a. Kevin. And so the saga continues…
I am not a late person. I have never been a late person. (Well okay, so now that I have two kids I am usually a late person, but who asked you anyway?) I was soooooo not looking forward to meeting this WWF-loving guy with “blue eyes and puffy hair” who I hoped had taken my advice and not worn the ugliest shirt in his closet, however, that I showed up to our first date nearly half an hour late. I walked all throughout the JJJ cafe, making eye contact with anyone who glanced my way, and also looking for a guy who maybe hadn’t ordered a drink yet. Nada. I stationed a chair right in front of the door and sat down in it. Still nada.
Had Deep Throat already been and left? Was he even later than I was? Was he too intimidated by my blazing hotness to introduce himself to me?
At that point a guy wearing a baseball uniform walked by the cafe, noticed me, and came in with an “I want to hug you” look written all over his body. “Michelle? Michelle Popadopalus?!”* he asked.
Okay, now this happens quite often. I am one of four girls, and though at the time one of us was a classy lawyer, one a ripped boxer, one a ridiculously sexy teacher, and one a pale goth, people always got us confused. Or they just assumed we were one really well-rounded, buff, weird person.
Anyway, I went through the whole that’s-not-me-that’s-my-sister spiel and then Mr. Baseball explained that had gone to college with my sister. He wrote his name and number on a piece of paper and handed it to me to give to my sister.
I know, I know. This did not look good to Deep Throat, who actually was in the cafe and had by then figured out that I was Me, and he had just watched Me get the name and number of somebody who played a real and respected sport (as opposed to a fake one *coughWWFcough*).
I turned around. A guy with blue eyes (and, I might add, an already finished drink) looked up at me and back down. He looked up again and we both pointed at each other.
The heavens did not open up. The birds did not sing. No rainbows suddenly appeared. But I swear I could hear the theme song of Seinfeld playing in my head…
WHAT’S COOKIN ‘2NITE:
Parmesan carrot risotto
Cheddar broccoli soup
Cinnamon roasted butternut squash
*Name has been changed to protect Michelle’s identity and to stir up nostalgic feelings about Webster.