Dear Night Flower,
Do you ever just get a feeling that you’ve done something to really irritate a divine being, and they’re taking great delight in taking revenge on you? I get this feeling often when it comes to men – or lack thereof. Like, when I joined an online dating service, did I get messages from a billionaire bookstore owner like from You’ve Got Mail, or a man like John Cusack from Must Love Dogs? No, of course not, just a whole lot of messages from old men missing teeth who obviously can’t read or don’t understand ‘ages 24-35 only’.
Another of these instances happened to me the other day. I thought I’d share it with you.
To get into this particular shopping centre from the parking lot you have to walk up a ramp that has metal handrails on either wall. My sister and I were walking up the ramp, when there at the top, a pair of sailors appeared. Handsome sailors. Time was suspended for a few glorious seconds. Enough time for a wondrous scenario to play out that I could be telling people for years about how I met my gorgeous sailor boyfriend.
From here it all happened very fast.
They were walking toward us. I looked at my sister to confirm she’d seen them too. She looked at me gleefully and we both looked back. The sailors looked at us. I got embarrassed and looked away. My sister, who hadn’t looked away, turned to tell me the sailor was looking at me. Delightedly, I looked up again, and in our distraction, my sister crab-walked me into the railing just as we were passing them. My bag dragged against the metal and made the loudest farting sound ever.
Needless to say, I am not currently dating a sailor. And to whichever god, goddess, spirit, imp, nymph, or cherub that I may have irritated: I am sorry.
P.S Sadly, I have to bow out of your “Guess Who” game. I’ve stared and stared at the picture of the eyeliner wearing man, and have no idea who it is. You’ll have to tell me, and then we need to have a serious talk about your obsession with men wearing make-up.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Dear Night Flower,