#19 Don’t Look in Unexpected Places

You know how they say you find love when you stop looking for it? You remember how I wrote a post calling fate a tart? You know how I started this blog a mere six months ago because I thought my misadventures might be amusing to someone, and since they had been going on so long they were sure to continue even longer and would provide a creative outlet for years?

Don’t get excited–because I’m for sure not–but I’ve met someone…intriguing. And I actually have a pretty good feeling about this.

I have a good feeling about THIS. Except, when I met him, he was wearing a shirt. Probably because they have rules about that in most places.

I was at the library the other day (yes, I go to the library. When I don’t have outstanding fines, which I usually do. It’s pretty embarrassing having to pay any library fine over $10), perusing some classic literature titles (ok, I was looking at the newest chick lit) when I noticed this guy wandering down the aisle toward me. I staunchly ignore guys when they get close to me because 1. I am too cool for that and 2. I get nervous. But it’s one thing to ignore someone inching their way toward you and another to pretend you’re deaf.

“Any suggestions?”

I took a quick glance over–cute, a little young looking, a bit of a grunge thing going on (or is it emo?)–but only for a second because I had to make up something more male appropriate than “Good Enough to Eat.” Unfortunately, I’m surrounded by Brontes.

Luckily, the A’s are on the bookshelf behind me. I pluck out Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

“Well, Douglas Adams is a sure bet,” I said. “But you’ll have to wait until next time–this is the last copy, and I’m taking it.”

I think I attempted a coy smile at this point, but I’m always pretty awkward at these things. Might have come out as a mean-spirited smirk.

“They made a movie about that a couple years back, didn’t they?” he asked. And as I’m nodding, he reaches over and takes it from my hand, flipping through the pages. As he studies the book, I study him. Definitely younger than me, but people often under guess my age. No backpack or anything, so hopefully he’s not a student. And cute. But is that mascara? Or just naturally gorgeous eyelashes?

Eye makeup? Or no eye makeup?

“Do you read a lot of science fiction?” he asked.

“I used to. I sorta grew out of it.” He closed the book and fixated on me. He didn’t give it back to me, though. He has dark dark brown eyes.

“I just read The Hunger Games, actually,” I continued. “They skew young adult, but it’s a really excellent trilogy.”

No joke, I wasn’t saying that just to be all scifi-y. They really are a great read.

“Good suggestion. Maybe I’ll check them out since you’re stealing Douglas Adams.”

“Ah, I believe the technical term is ‘borrowing’,” I corrected him.

He smiled–and it’s a boy next door smile. Not a creeper smile.

“I’m Pete.” He had to switch which hand the book is in to shake hands.

“Judy.” And then I looked pointedly at my book. Which I really do want to read now.

“Oh, you want this back?” He held it up, considering. “How about…I give you back this book if you give me your number.”

I was flummoxed. This is atypical for my life. Boys have asked for my number, it’s true. But after I’ve drunkenly made out with them or something even more audacious.

“Well, I–” I think I actually stammered at this point.

“Pretty simple trade,” Pete said, dangling the book in front of me.

So I did it. I gave him my number. And a couple days later he texted me to ask if I wanted to grab a drink (and while I usually applaud guys who call instead of text, I stuttered so much in giving him my number I barely trusted myself having a phone conversation with him. I’m awkward to the max on the phone). And while I don’t normally hit it off with rando strangers, while I don’t normally find connection in a chance meeting, while I don’t normally find the odds of meeting someone I’m actually compatible with by chance at all attractive, I decided to do something a bit bold for me.

I said yes.