The Logical Philosopher

Saturday, November 03, 2007

I still have my mojo. I think...

"I don't give out my number, but if you give me yours I'll be sure to call."

"How will I know?"

"I always call guys back that have an accent."

It had started innocently enough - what I thought was a couple on the plush chairs at Starbucks, relaxing and enjoying their drinks. Beside them were two empty plush chairs, facing the two they were sitting in. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation I made the international gesture for "are these seats taken". She gave me a look and quickly replied "Sorry, they both are." After a brief moment she broke into a smile and said "Just kidding, go ahead."

Getting lost in my thoughts I didn't pay attention to their talk. A while later he finished his coffee and headed off, while she started to pack her bag to go. As she got up she realized she needed to navigate around me to get out.

"Can you excuse me please?"

"No" I replied with a deadpan tone, dispensing payback without even thinking twice.

It took a second but she looked over and thinly smiled. "Ahhh, good one! Quick witted!" She stopped, tossing her hair to the side in a I-just-got-picked-up head flick. "Now that I have his number don't the guys give high-fives or something?" She continued on, adding some hand gestures. "You know, up high, down low, slide the fingers." Oh wait, I'm dating myself, I'm 34 so you probably don't know what the heck I'm talking about. Being only slightly younger than her I smiled silently to myself.

"Ok... got to go to the bathroom. Can you watch my stuff? I mean, you can leave, but if you don't that would be better. It's just my coat and scarf I have, but they are nice...”

I nodded and she headed off. After a few minutes she came back and plopped down on the plush seat.

“Thanks for watching my coat.” She looked me up and down – without looking me up and down – and continued on. “Aren't you a bike courier? You've got the biking jacket and shorts, with good legs and calves. I'm just assuming." Then she thought for a moment. "No...are you an Stock Broker? I mean, it’s 2 in the afternoon and you’re just hanging at Starbucks reading some business type book.”

"Was that what he was?” I replied, gesturing to the empty seat that the guy chatting in when I sat down. I did her them talking occupations, with the direction of gold-digging in her voice.

"Yeah, that’s what he said. But he was too old. Do you think I should call him? I should have told him I'm not dating.” She looked back at me again. “So what kind of job do you have that you can wear shorts to a meeting? Can I call you Biker Boy?”

“I’m a writer. You know, those people that hang out all day and watch other people so they have something to write about.”

"Oh, a writer? Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed.”

“That’s good because you just talked your way into something I will probably write about.”

She giggled “Hmmm, can you call me Isabella, no wait Paisley. If I see Paisley written somewhere I will know it was about me.”

Thankfully her swooning was interrupted by the ring of my phone with Sandritia coming up on my caller display. From four blocks away, she must have sensed the situation through her girl senses. “Sorry, I need to grab this” I noted, pulling out my phone.


"OK LP, I'm ready for a night on the town. You ready to go?"

"Yep, I’ll be on my way now and meet you there in a few minutes.”
I closed my phone and bag in one swoop, standing and readying myself for departure. “Have a great day Paisley. I’m sure there will be a stock broker coming in sometime after the markets close.”

“See you Biker Boy!” I heard her call out as I stepped out onto the street.

As I left I realized I didn't give her the high five. Maybe it was for the best. When I get home I'll ask my wife and she what she says. I'm sure she will agree...