Yesterday morning I went into a coffee shop before my trek to work for a much needed extra-large cup of joe. This is a place I just started going to since I began taking a different route to my new job and since my old coffee place is now beyond my reach.
I parked and quickly got out, as it was getting late and I didn't want to get stuck in traffic (which I discovered I would have had there not been a detour for me to take). As soon as I walked in, I noticed two guys at the counter. They noticed me too. One more than the other. And I noticed him more than the other as well.
He kept turning back to look at me and I liked it. I didn't look my best. Yoga pants with a t-shirt and a hoodie because yesterday was the Terry Fox run and I don't think I'd have made it 2 km in heels and a pair of dress pants. But he still looked at me. I guess my hair looked nice.
He was cute. Not that much taller than me, but that's no shocker since it's rare for Italian guys to be tall. And it's not a far stretch for me to assume he's Italian considering where I live. He wasn't dressed to the nines. No suit would adorn his body as I'm sure he was in some sort of trade business. Which, personally, I find kind of sexy. I like a guy who can work with his hands.
He sat down at a table when he and his friend had received their coffees. I ordered my extra-large and left. Walking toward my car and getting into it, I could see my guy looking at me through the glass window. I could see him shifting so he could get a better look. I could see that he didn't take his eyes off of me until I left the parking lot. I made a note to see what cars were in the parking lot and figured that the red pick-up truck that I was parked beside may have belonged to him.
On the drive to work, I smiled thinking that maybe at that moment he was smiling thinking of me. And then I thought nothing of it for the rest of the day.
This morning, I was thinking I would make another stop at the coffee shop. Was thinking I might make a bit more of an effort with my wardrobe. Was thinking that he might be there again. And then when I was driving, instead of getting into my right lane, I got into my left. Instead of turning into the parking lot, I kept going straight. The red pick-up truck was there. I'm pretty sure it was the same one. I wonder if he wondered if I'd be there this morning too. Just like I wondered if I'd see him there again. I wonder if he looked at his clock and thought to himself, "Guess she's not coming today." I wonder if he thought, "I'll be back tomorrow."
I don't know what made me not stop. I don't know what holds me back when things like this come up. Maybe tomorrow I'll go get another cup of coffee there. Maybe he'll be there and maybe he'll say to me, "There you are!"
I'll be sure to look extra nice for him. Maybe give him a little smile.
