March 3, 2009

• I just read your comments and it made me so happy.  Because when I wrote about her I wasn’t.  I felt like something was missing.  This is what makes Xanga so precious to me, that I can get feedback from the likes of you guys, and I can practice trying to convey what I think I see. 

  I still feel like I left some things out about the type of woman I think she is and what was involved in the look we exchanged.  Probably because I’m not real clear about it myself.  All I know is that from the minute I walked in the door of the church, and this is one huge church where they have the Greek Festival every year, I was aware of her.  And I suspect she was aware of me. 

  Maybe she watches people like I do.  Maybe she gets people like I do.  I’m not sure what’s happening with me, but my radar is getting stronger.  I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or if it’s even reliable.  It’s why I wanted to stand up at the end of the room and just survey the couples at those long tables.  I didn’t even have to hear what they were saying; I could get a feeling about who they were and what kind of marriage they had.

  It’s like the first time I saw Derek standing outside my front door.  I saw exactly who he turned out to be.  Not the guy I sat next to at the party.  Not the guy I talked to on the phone every day or the guy I sat next to at church.  No, I saw the dark side of him, the controlling side of him. 

  I used to remember back to that day and wonder why on earth I thought he was like that.  I thought I must have imagined it.  And then he hit my dog.  But I digress.

  Anyway, about the woman.  I keep wanting to think of a name for her, in case I ever use her as a character.  I’m not too hip on Greek names so I don’t know if Adriean is okay.  It suits her, though.  It seems classy like she was.  And precise.  And clean. 

  But there was an earthiness to her.  Like I bet she has an amazing garden.  I could see her having an herb garden outside her kitchen.  But she probably wears special garden gloves and has her tools all neatly collected in a brightly colored bucket in the garage. 

  She was probably the only other woman wearing a sweatshirt.  I mislead you with the cruise clothes.  But her’s was winter white with an obnoxious gold and red label.  Beautiful material and matching pants but, again, something you’d wear on a large boat.  Unless you didn’t want to don the bib, and you were looking for something attractive you could throw in the wash.

  Not to go off on a tangent but it’s like the other night at the grocery store.  I needed cash and I wanted cookies so I went into a Safeway I never frequent.  I was standing in front of the cookies, and I so rarely buy them that I was perplexed.  I even put my glasses on.  A guy approaches and I look up.  I am always on the lookout.  It’s more of a glance, though, because I am on a mission and am late for this play I’m going to.  But I quickly do a double-take because this guy is tall.  He’s got a great hat on.  He looks smart and has cool glasses and when he sees me do a double-take his eyes don’t leave mine. He slows slightly and when he’s right in front of the cookies I was going to choose I take my eyes off his, and I look down to check his ring finger.  He seems taken, even though I don’t see a ring.  I missed my chance to say anything, and he’s too far down the isle but it was the most meaningful exchange I’ve had with a guy in a very long time.  For the very reason I’m writing about Adrienne.  I’m not sure how to spell her name.

  The reason I doubt myself is that I sat across from a guy I’ll call Bob.  He and his wife who I never even really noticed until I was halfway through my whole crab, the wife that is, turned out to be hilarious.  Her I got but boy did I call him wrong.  He was bald, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans and probably tennis shoes and just looked boring.  He was unattractive and never spoke a word until my brother started talking about his friend whose wife shells all the crab for him and their two boys. 

  Pretty soon Bob starts talking and he’s a riot.  He’s droll, and his timing is perfect.  Then we move onto his achilles tendon operation, since my brother had his wrist in a brace because he broke it so he and Bob swapped rehab stories.  Turns out Bob is really into his body which I never in a million years would have guessed.  So here is a guy I totally didn’t read right.  I guess I have selective insight.

  • 3:00 am
  • 3 Comments