dear lauren?

I think that's your name, and I think that's how you'd spell it. It should be burned into my memory, but I was so entranced with your eyes when you spoke to me, that I'm not really sure anymore. But even with only that one brief encounter several months ago, I still have a major crush. I don't think I've had a crush since High School.

It was a hot August day, and my bestie and I had just left market collective in search of a sunny patio and a cold beer. Settling ourselves into a sunny spot on the rooftop patio, a woman in a bright blue parrot dress caught my eye. The dress was several sizes too small and looked a little like a shrunken sausage casing. It was the female version of a hawaiian shirt, and her rooted, crimped bleach blond hair and blue eyeshadow exemplified a female mulleted '80's Rod Stewart look-alike. She was sitting with three young men, easily decades younger than her. The look of amusement on their face was tinged with fear as she went back to the bar to retrieve another round of shots. Using a tray was obviously foreign to her, and she resembled a whale walking a tightrope while trying to bring the shots back to the, now obviously terrified, group of guys.

We observed in amusement, on the edge of our seats to see which patron she might spill the tray on. Looking over at the guys, one of them returned our inquiring looks with a wide eyed look and mouthed 'help me'. Laughing at the spectacle before us, I noticed Lauren in the corner, looking not terrified, but simply amused by what had befallen him that day.

When the tipsy cougar took a bathroom break, HE came over to talk to us. I was distracted by his laid back demeanor, not to mention the fact that he looked like a homeless Jake Gyllenhaal. Just when I thought we were making progress, parrot lady came back, my bestie's husband showed up and the boys decided that they needed a nap before round two that evening. Why didn't I man up and tell him to text me later, giving him my number? My mouth was glued together. I swear. Now I regret it.

There have since been sightings. Outside of the Yardhouse one friday around 4 pm, but I didn't approach him- didn't feel I was looking 'hot' enough. I followed him down the street after seeing him walk by the Ship with some girlfriends one night, but then chickened out. My bestie saw him by her work at a gas station. I just hope this city is small enough that I see him again soon. Because then, I hope. I won't chicken out, and I'll just bite the bullet.....

To conclude, three things I'm grateful for since my last post:
1. The surpise coffee date with a friend on Monday. That 3 pm slump was easily avoided.
2. The assurance from the department head that I might still get into Ryerson after sending a desperate email.
3. It's only one day until the weekend. Thank God.