Tomorrow, a week ago
It was 5:30 traffic time. I was having a "I can't believe he did that" chat with my friend J, who just migrated to Boston (she's one of Harvard's research goddesses).
While stopped at a light, I looked to my right. A gleaming blue BMW with just enough tint to tantalize the imagination sat beside me. I could make out a large hand gripping the stearing wheel. Able to distinguish the beginnings of a massive forearm attached to that "have your way with me" hand I squealed in delight: "J, my darling, I have a feeling there's a very tall and very hot man in the car next to me." I'm almost 5'10 so, well, enter my fascination with men over 6'2.
J giggled. Yes, I was being silly (nothing new you'll discover).
Just as I turned to mouth "Will you marry me" to the tint and the forearms, his window rolled down. Gulp.
I'd be lying if I didn't feel a rush of "love at first sight." He was, is, beautiful.
His eyes matched the blue of his car. His hair a strawberry blond, adorned a very masculine and very sexy face. He flashed me a half smile and tickled the air between us with an "I'm too cool for you wave," just as the light said go.
Laughing (and yes, driving, paying SO much attention to the road), I recounted it all to J. "You should've seen him. G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S! But the wave said it all. 'I'm rich and hot and entirely too cool for Y-O-U.'"
Ha! Just a few streets to go and I'd be home. Home to pee stains (my roomie's dog is still a puppy) and my 8 lb. son, Hercules. Gone was the blue beamer, but J wasn't. We continued our convo until I made a quick right on my street.
We talked of her new roommates, my poor study habits, and the amazing spot I found directly in front of my house. One defines the term "Beverly Hills Adjacent" when they look for parking on the, gasp, street. No 3 car garages for this twentysomething.
As I was attempting to gingerly parallel park my aging C-230 the beautiful man in the beautiful car sped past.
"Shit J, beamer man just passed me." J and I laughed. I imagined he was off to some mansionesque model's house in Beverlywood.
After unsuccessful attempts at parking, I finally sprung out, still talking to J, in order to move a pesky garbage can obstructing my primo spot. I wasn't going to let a trash can stand between me and court side parking.
Grappling with the can and a convoluted conversation, the blue beamer whipped around and whirred towards me.
"J.... he's coming back," I murmured frightfully.
Stopping his car in the middle of R St., I gaped in disbelief. From the guts of this incredible car immerged the tallest man I've ever seen. "Are you my neighbor?" he asked, peering down from the heavans (enter cheesy dun dun DUN music).
As my eyes went from huge feet into the sky, scanning this massive man in front of me, I managed to stammer, "Um, let me call you back J."
After a mini traffic jam, wherein P and I exchanged the basic info: you know, me in the shittiest law school in Los Angeles and he having returned from a 6 month hiatus playing basketball in Japan, we agreed to a phone call minutes later and early evening cocktails.
Cocktails turned to dinner with P and my roomie M. It was one of those nights were NOTHING goes as planned. The sushi place we headed to was booked, so we ate Italian. Later there were cigarettes and a moonlight walk home combined with some not yet formed regrets. P had told me about S his roommate, who sounded perfect. S was just as tall, but a reader, writer, and thinker. Had my kiss with P ruined my chance with a man I'd never met, but who seemed like my John Galt?
While stopped at a light, I looked to my right. A gleaming blue BMW with just enough tint to tantalize the imagination sat beside me. I could make out a large hand gripping the stearing wheel. Able to distinguish the beginnings of a massive forearm attached to that "have your way with me" hand I squealed in delight: "J, my darling, I have a feeling there's a very tall and very hot man in the car next to me." I'm almost 5'10 so, well, enter my fascination with men over 6'2.
J giggled. Yes, I was being silly (nothing new you'll discover).
Just as I turned to mouth "Will you marry me" to the tint and the forearms, his window rolled down. Gulp.
I'd be lying if I didn't feel a rush of "love at first sight." He was, is, beautiful.
His eyes matched the blue of his car. His hair a strawberry blond, adorned a very masculine and very sexy face. He flashed me a half smile and tickled the air between us with an "I'm too cool for you wave," just as the light said go.
Laughing (and yes, driving, paying SO much attention to the road), I recounted it all to J. "You should've seen him. G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S! But the wave said it all. 'I'm rich and hot and entirely too cool for Y-O-U.'"
Ha! Just a few streets to go and I'd be home. Home to pee stains (my roomie's dog is still a puppy) and my 8 lb. son, Hercules. Gone was the blue beamer, but J wasn't. We continued our convo until I made a quick right on my street.
We talked of her new roommates, my poor study habits, and the amazing spot I found directly in front of my house. One defines the term "Beverly Hills Adjacent" when they look for parking on the, gasp, street. No 3 car garages for this twentysomething.
As I was attempting to gingerly parallel park my aging C-230 the beautiful man in the beautiful car sped past.
"Shit J, beamer man just passed me." J and I laughed. I imagined he was off to some mansionesque model's house in Beverlywood.
After unsuccessful attempts at parking, I finally sprung out, still talking to J, in order to move a pesky garbage can obstructing my primo spot. I wasn't going to let a trash can stand between me and court side parking.
Grappling with the can and a convoluted conversation, the blue beamer whipped around and whirred towards me.
"J.... he's coming back," I murmured frightfully.
Stopping his car in the middle of R St., I gaped in disbelief. From the guts of this incredible car immerged the tallest man I've ever seen. "Are you my neighbor?" he asked, peering down from the heavans (enter cheesy dun dun DUN music).
As my eyes went from huge feet into the sky, scanning this massive man in front of me, I managed to stammer, "Um, let me call you back J."
After a mini traffic jam, wherein P and I exchanged the basic info: you know, me in the shittiest law school in Los Angeles and he having returned from a 6 month hiatus playing basketball in Japan, we agreed to a phone call minutes later and early evening cocktails.
Cocktails turned to dinner with P and my roomie M. It was one of those nights were NOTHING goes as planned. The sushi place we headed to was booked, so we ate Italian. Later there were cigarettes and a moonlight walk home combined with some not yet formed regrets. P had told me about S his roommate, who sounded perfect. S was just as tall, but a reader, writer, and thinker. Had my kiss with P ruined my chance with a man I'd never met, but who seemed like my John Galt?
posted by Alice at 1:21 PM
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