Monday, August 20, 2007

A Wonderful Day in the Neighborhood

I was at Trader Joes this morning right when they opened the doors....
The Trader...
The J-Man...

And there was a sweet Russian mother with two sons, the youngest of whom was in the cart and the other one, around four or so, was holding a balloon and a stuffed horsey. The little one was also holding a balloon which popped right in his face, leaving a huge welt on his forehead and a scream coming out of his mouth like Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween. Everyone was trying to comfort the poor boy (and the Trader Joe people were hoping this Russian woman had never heard the words "law suit" uttered in her English classes.) So, the other son, who was taunting his brother and saying something mean in Russian, (you could just tell by the look on his face) dropped his stuffed horsey and I picked it up and handed it to him and he totally freaked out. Started saying awful things to me (I could tell by the look on his mother's face) and I told him I just didn't want his horsey to get stepped on. At which point he dropped the horsey and jumped up and down on it so hard that the stuffing came out. And I was appalled and very upset because I'm crazy enough to think that stuffed animals have feelings but more than that I realized how tough Russians were, probably from living in Siberia, and that my grandparents were from Russia but I could not imagine them stomping on anything. Although I did see my sweet grandma strangle a chicken once (I think I mentioned this but I'm pretty sure that strangling has shaped my entire life) so I guess Russians might have a quiet heartless side to them.

And that was my morning.

On the way home I stopped at a red light on Olympic and a man was crossing the street and our eyes met for five tenths of a second. He smiled and I smiled and he came over to the car and I opened the window and he said Hi and I said Hi and he asked me if I'd like to have a cup of coffee. It was late morning and I was a bit droopy so I said Yes, I would love that.
He took me to a little unStarbucky coffee house and we both ordered decaf low fat lattes and I stared at his full head of grey hair as he asked me all about myself. Who I was, what I did, where I'd come from and when I finished telling him everything interesting I could think of he wanted me to tell him all over again and I said I wanted to hear who he was but he wasn't interested in telling me about himself, he just wanted to hear about me. So I told him the same story three times and he asked if I was hungry and would I like to walk over to his apartment and have a little lunch. And he smiled and we looked into each other's eyes and I felt a surge of embarrassing warmth run from my toes to my brain and I said I would love to go to his apartment.
It was down the street from the unStarbucky place and he opened his door and a table sat in the middle of the room with a romantic place setting for two and we talked and we laughed as he cooked the pasta arrabiatta and made the salad and he wouldn't let me help at all, he just wanted me to relax and he lit the candles and he knew I didn't drink wine so he served me a glass of sparkling apple juice and we laughed and the food was delicious and he wouldn't even let me help with the dishes but I came up next to him at the silver sink and he wiped off his hands on a dish towel and he took hold of my face and he kissed me and I melted into a puddle of longing and he asked if he could see me again and I said "You can see me every minute of every hour for the rest of my life." And he held me and my heart beat into his.

And all of this happened in five tenths of a second.

And that was my afternoon.

I can't wait until tonight.


Fun Joel said...

Found my way here via Billy's blog. Don't have much specifics to say, but thought I should at least give you a brief comment: Good shit!

JS said...

Think I had that 5/10ths of a second in Parma in 1992 walking across a bridge totally jetlagged- and my heart was stopped by incredible eyes and olive beauty. Don't think he would have listened to my story though-he was definitely an Italian Mama's boy and would only have told me his life. But ohhh those eyes. Thanks for reminding me.

And the girls were so excited about High School Musical 2-they even watched it in Point Reyes..of all places.. And hated it!! mainly production and music issues-trying too hard. So the review lied-a waste of vacation time. No need to watch.

susanm said...

ah yes, the fatal 5/10ths.
i've been exceeding my time limit with this kind of thing on the mountain here in vermont
rolling clouds and crystalline skies are refracting romance and the next step everywhere...... even the large moose with whom i shared my 5/10ths last night thinks its enough already.
but not me
i think i can
i think i can
i think i can
much love and many evenings of arrabiatta to you, my darling

Comicstripped said...

I am going to read your blog every day. So good!