...is what you were doing the afternoon of July 8, around 3pm. You were wearing a skirt and ruched top, had shorter, lightbrown/blonde hair, and a pin earring through the top of your right ear. And you were eating soup. I've never had such a beautiful woman sit across from me and have lunch, but I've recovered enough to want to try it again, if you're interested.
If you're wondering what the blond, blue-eyed guy with glasses was looking so serious about (when not smiling about that little girl trying to talk her mom into bottled water), it was producing random conversation fragments like this:
1) You know, I used to own this album. The old-school Cure fans didn't like it 'cause Robert turned into a happy popstar (Friday I'm In Love). I used to listen to Letter to Elise and Apart on repeat. 1992 was a gloomy year for me.
2) Do you think it's foggy at the beach?
3) I've never seen such a beautiful woman eat soup.
4) Did you take today off from work? I did. I'm self-employed. I said, "Dammit, kid, you've got to think of *yourself*! Take the day!" Yes, ha ha, "a freelance writer"...
5) You don't think it's too hot for soup, apparently. I had a sandwich, myself. I like soup, but I thought, no, it's too hot. Not for you, though. I respect that.
6) It's okay that you're singing. No, I like it. Honestly. It's just that I'll miss the sound of your voice when you finish your soup and leave. It'll seem silent around here. Does that sound sweet, or mildly creepy to you? I'm not sure.
7) Now that earring that looks like a silver pin. That goes right through the cartilage, it looks like. I'm not sure I'm comfortable thinking about that. No, I like it. Honestly. I'm an idiot. Why do I say things like that?
8) Why am I getting up to go just as you're getting up to go? I know, I look like a stalker. I *was* leaving. I think I had the idea first. But now I'll just sit here and wait. Oh, you're going to sit here and wait? Now, are you waiting for me to leave, or to say something? Is it possible you're not picking this up telepathically? No, you'd be red-faced & snorting with laughter.
9) Maybe I'll just read this book of selected letters between William and Henry James. Maybe I'll just glance at the cover. Maybe my interior monologue will shut the hell up so I can think.
10) How about this? I'll just go, and if you're interested at all, you can trip me as I walk past or kick me suddenly. Whatever comes to you. We'll improvise. The Walgreen's is just down the street. If you break the skin I can always run in and grab some Bactine. I have a high threshhold for pain. I once stepped on a nail in Converse. I mean, I was wearing the Converse, of course, not the nail. I don't know that that proves anything about my threshhold for pain, now that I think about it.
11) Believe it or not, there's more where this came from...
Other ways to contact poster:
www.geocities.com/franzq2