I took a deep breath. My legs didn’t move.
I took another deep breath and, under my breath, told my legs to move.
Still, no movement.
I began to wonder if the reason my legs weren’t responding to my commands was because I could barely hear myself think over the pounding of my heart – which seemed to have suddenly transitioned from the middle of my chest to somewhere between my eardrums.
I sat back down.
Reflexively, I looked over at Ms. Skinny Salted Carmel Mocha. Good. She was still there and none the wiser to my aborted attempt to make my way to her table.
I started to take a sip of my coffee but also aborted that attempt because my hands were shaking and I was afraid of spilling it on myself.
Closing my eyes I drew in several deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. So deep I could feel the buttons on my shirt digging into my chest.
I relaxed. A little.
What the hell am I doing? I thought. I’m at least 15 years that woman’s senior.
Before doubt could take hold and cement my butt to my chair for the remainder of the afternoon, I rose from my table, took my coffee (holding my hand close to my body to keep from sloshing it on myself and the floor) and walked to the edge of the beautiful woman’s table.
For long, long seconds I stood there and she didn’t look up. Realizing she might be subconsciously mistaking me for someone simply studying the drink menu that was front of me – even though it was some twenty feet away – I moved a bit to her right.
I was no longer in the direct line of sight to the drink menu. That was good.
My body was now casting a shadow across her table and book because I was blocking the light from the windows that bordered the door. I reasoned that was an even better placement of my body because people always look up to see what has changed in their environment.
I stood stock still. Almost afraid to move because I was in the perfect ‘she'll notice me now’ position.
Still nothing. Either she was ignoring me or the book was highly engrossing.
I watched as a finger appeared in front of me. The finger was on my hand and it began lowering itself towards the table at which she sat. I found myself utterly surprised that the finger was my finger!
My finger gently tapped the top of her table.
Brown eyes looked up at me and a questioning, but polite, smile greeted me.
I stared at her eyes. Just stared. I didn’t say anything. In fact, I don’t think I was thinking anything either because I was… mortified.
What the hell was I thinking? I was finally able to ask myself as the woman tilted her head to the side.
A moment after her lips had stopped moving I realized she’d said something to me.
The bass drums that had replaced my heartbeat pounded in my head.
Desperately I tried to recall what I knew I must have heard her say.
For a moment I thought I’d heard her ask something akin to, “Jets so feed ring?”
But that made no sense.
Hurriedly, I tried to rearrange the words in hopes she wouldn’t get the idea from my silence that I was a peculiarly dressed mime.
Then I figured it out.
She’d asked, “Yes? Do you need something?”
Good god! I couldn’t believe she’d actually spoken to me. Even more unbelievable was that she apparently expected me to answer her… coherently!
Unable to think of a proper response, I settled on using the line I’d thought of a few minutes before.
“Would you mind if I sit here forever?”
The words tumbled out of my mouth. Oddly, they didn’t sound anything like they had in my head. Then I realized they weren’t the same words I’d had in my head.
I replayed what I'd just asked and… oh my god! I’d gone from being a respectable, if ill-dressed, mime to a complete moron.
Unexpectedly, she giggled.
“Sure,” she said through a smile that spread across her face.
“Thanks,” I said and sat down before I made an even bigger fool out of myself.
She smiled at me and giggled again.
I giggled (I know, guys aren’t supposed to giggle but that’s what I did).
Then, we both laughed at the same time.
I have no idea what made us laugh but we did. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation. It might have been that I looked funny or maybe she’d been reading something comical in the book and I reminded her of it. Whatever the reason, we both laughed like we’d known each other for years.
A few seconds after we’d stopped laughing I held out my hand, “I’m Mike. Hello.”
“I’m Traci,” she said and took my hand in her own. “Hi Mike.”
Traci changed my life.
I became confident in myself once again. I found what I’d missed so much since Elle had passed… a friend, a confidant, a partner and a kinky soulmate (as she says).
The day she met my eyes in the coffee shop I would have never guessed, not in a million years, that the warmth I felt then would be replaced by an even deeper warmth – the warmth I felt as I danced with my lady as though she were the only woman in existence. Because, to me, holding her in my arms and dancing in our favorite restaurant, she was.
