It was just another morning last week. I was having a particularly dowdy day, dressed head to toe in predictable Gap fashions (that's right khakis and cableknit sweater) and barely going to be on time for work. I was actually a bit concerned someone in my office would tell me to just go home if I'm not going to put any effort into my appearance. It was a risk I was willing to take.
As I looked both ways before crossing Broadway at 40th Street (safety first, kiddos), I heard a car honk twice. Naturally, I scoped where it was coming from to make sure I wasn't being warned about my imminent death. My gaze was greeted by a man in the drivers seat of a parked van smiling and waving "hello" at me furiously. He cracked his door open - as though he was afraid I was going to hop in - and said "Come on, baby. I'm just saying Hi, give me a smile."
Fabulous I thought as I shook my head, laughed and crossed the street.
As I reached the door to my office building, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked back. And down. And there was the goofy guy from the van.
Scary smile? Check.
Patchwork fisherman hat worn tilted over one eye like a fedora? Check.
"I'm sorry miss," he said as he laughed uncomfortably and did a strange side-step dance.
"Can I help you?" The thought crossed my mind that maybe he was homeless and had been attempting to steal the van.
"Oh um yes. I just want to say, wow, you take my breath away."
"I mean, I know this sounds weird - shit, I don't even like white girls. But damn, my heart stopped when I saw you."
This isn't happening.
"Wow that's very flattering."
"Listen, I made mistakes in my life by letting things pass me by. And I saw you and told myself not to let history repeat itself." He clutched his chest.
Blank stare from me. I mean, really, what the hell am I supposed to say?
"So I ran over here - I don't know if I closed my car door. Oh! And I'm not crazy or nothin'. I work in entertainment," he paused to see if I'd bite on the entertainment line. "I just came from shooting for Taxicab Confessions."
"So I don't know if you're in a relationship or married...or damn! Shoot, if you're single! But listen, could I just give you my number? I'm sure you're a busy career woman."
I looked down at my hand and was clutching my blackberry for dear life. For one brief moment I wondered If I just throw this at the ground will he still think it's mine or could I pass it off as though it was never in my possession?
"Oh you know, I don't know," I stalled. He looked like a sad, 47 year old Pound Puppy. "I have a boyfriend."
Wow - now THAT is a lie.
"Is it serious?"
"Yeah, it really is. I'm sorry." LIES LIES LIES.
"Well, do you think he might screw up?"
"Yeah, like, could you take my number in case he screws up?"
Sweet dude, you're jinxing a relationship that doesn't even exist.
"Oh you know, it really is pretty serious. I hope he doesn't screw up."
"Of course. Of course...but just in case?"
Am I taking it too far if I say we're moving in together? Hopefully he won't ask me a name...
"I'm sorry I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Whew," he said as he shook his head. "Well dang. Can't say I didn't try."
"Well I am very flattered."
"Sure. Sure. Either way - you made my day. Just seeing your face light up in my direction."
"Aw thank you."
I. Am. So. Uncomfortable.
"Well God bless baby. You have a great day."
What was YOUR morning commute like today?