So, once upon a time, I was internet dating and I came across this guy. This guy was funny, clever and incredibly HOT! I was drooling! I sent him a smart, witty message and he sent me one back. Score! First step in internet dating: get a response! We arranged a time to meet (he happens to live down the road from my house), had a lovely first date, we said our goodbyes as the sun came up and he texted me constantly for the next 48 hours. We went on a second date, watched some Jeopardy (score again!) and he walked me home, we said goodbye and then I didn’t hear from him again. Was his pride hurt that I kicked his butt at Jeopardy? Is he threatened that I have a successful career? Did I come on too strong? All those normal questions go running through my head…
So, I do what any normal, red-blooded female would do: I texted him constantly for the next week trying to make plans and not taking the hint that he keeps making excuses not to see me. (Notice I said what any normal female would do and definitely not sane or rational. I think when it comes to boys, girls have a little part of their brain that makes them go all crazy: it’s like when sharks get the taste of blood in their mouths, they go on a hunting spree until fed – that’s kind of like girls. Even when texting I was sitting there, saying to myself: This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea. No use! Still did it!)
Anyhoo, so what else do I do? I spent the next 3 days going to the grocery store at 5:30pm because I know that is when he should be walking back home from work. (Yup, if the word “Psycho” is running through your head, I get it!!! I was thinking it too! That is the problem with being a woman: you just can’t help yourself!!) On day 3, he is coming up the escalator as I am walking down the stairs beside it and I tap his arm and he is surprised (he is also on an escalator going to the opposite direction, so I’m really not sure what I was hoping to accomplish), he looks at me weird like he doesn’t know who I am, the lightbulb comes on and he says hi rather awkwardly and then continues on his way (probably as fast as he can). That was the end; enough is enough… or so I thought.
Skip ahead to nearly 1 year later! I am just recovering from the flu. I have bags under my eyes, I haven’t worn make-up in a week, my hair is like straw and I haven’t left my house in 7 days. I have to run up the road to look at a potential rehearsal space. It is 3:30pm. At this point, I don’t even think of Jeopardy Boy anymore… but that is my mistake. For no logical reason at all, I’m walking down my street and who should be passing? Who else?! Jeopardy Boy. Question the first: It is 3:30pm, why is he not at work?! Question the second: He doesn’t live on my street, why is he walking past my building? Question the third: Why do I ever think it is safe to leave my apartment looking like I was just hit by a Mac truck?!
As I am staring at him coming my way with my jaw around my ankles, I fail to see the curb (that truly came out of nowhere) and trip. I don’t just stumble; I don’t just slip; no,no… I fall! I fall face first into the street, where there is a lovely mud puddle because the weekend was warm and all the snow has melted. I land palms down and scrape my hands so bad they start bleeding. Did he see? Did he even recognize who I was? I’ll never know. I stood up, brushed myself off, pulled my hood up tight and walked away as quickly as possible. By the time I get to my appointment, I have bandaged my bloody palms and wiped most of the mud off my pants, but unfortunately there was nothing I could do about my wounded ego. That will teach me to go all crazy stalker on boys! (Ha! I wish I could actually say that with confidence but I know it’s not true, if the past has taught me anything.) On my way home, I picked up a bottle of wine from a little wine shop up the road; ironically, it was Jeopardy Boy that showed me the wine shop in the first place. I guess it all comes full circle. Talk about going “head over heels”!