Every once and awhile, I find myself in a situation that can only be described as kismet. This one took place on Tuesday afternoon at 1:38 pm. I was minding my own business when I eyed a guy, about my age, looking at me like he recognized me from somewhere and was trying to place it. I was expecting him to say something like “Do I know you?” or “You look really familiar,” and we’d go on to have a pleasant conversation trying to figure out if we took a class together in college or shared a distant relative.
Instead he said, “Do you have a boyfriend? Becaaaaaause, I’m available.”
Which could have been romantic if we were in a decadent art museum and the guy was tall and athletic with dark skin, manly, protective biceps, brown eyes, tousled black hair, Mmmm… Oh, sorry, I got distracted. Instead, we were at Taco Bell and he was 12 inches shorter than me, heavyset, and totally not my type (no offense, men, if that describes any of you)… Needless to say, his efforts were in vain.
Regardless, I stumbled into that Taco Bell having had a terrible morning and walked out with smile on my face. I think fate knew I needed a little cheering up.
The Love Shoebox 