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Dec 26, 2003 "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" the Boston-flirt asks me. "I'm flying into New York now." "Um," I say joking. "Who are you again?" Oh, yeah..you're the flirt...the guy with the perfect voice and the dangerously smooth way.....Oh, and I remember..LastI heard from you I was driving in my Kia with my windows open and the breeze blowing and the radio getting me all pumped up ......on my way to Boston for our fireside date at your beach house...when you called on the cell to say not to come because you needed to think." I hear laughter. Only laughter. Smooth guy laughter. His voice is perfect. But I know he has to say something of worth for me to go out with him. Okay, okay he'd said he just needed to think and it wasn't bad stuff he needed to think over...But still..I need him to explain or something....or this dinner date is not gonna happen. "Are you seeing anyone?" He asks me breezily. "What's bringing you to New York?" I counter. " A work meeting. So... Dinner?" He asks. "I can't stand the wait to snuggle with you." Huh? Snuggle? Weren't we just talking about dinner...? And....he stood me up the last time we spoke...and now he thinks I'm going to snuggle up to him? I will tell him exactly what I think and I will be very .... "Yeah, me too," my mouth suddenly says, totally without my permission. "Eight o'clock?" "Sure." I hand up and several hours later I stand with freshly washed hair, and perfume, whispering into a hotel lobby's black plastic telephone next to a giant bouquet that marks the entry to the hotel bar....and there on the other side of the bouquet is a singing pianist with an empty cup. "Hi. I'm in the lobby," I say. "Great. Want come up or would you like to go straight to the restaurant?" He asks confidently. Silence. I don't know what to say....He's the dreamy guy with the perfect voice and the great heart..but where has he been? .....While I think of what to do I see the bar's waitress in a white shirt, and black bow tie, emptying an ashtray ....the butts and a pile of grey ashes fall into a larger brown tray and then she sneezes on it and looks up at me, laughing. "Come on down...I'm by the piano guy and the waitress with the cold." "Ah, yes, the sneezing waitress," he says. "Be right down." Two minutes later, a smiling flirt is in front of me..in a denim shirt..with a tan....the waitress gives him a smile of recognition and I think I see a flash of hope brush across her face.....but he doesn't seem to notice. "Would you like to to try a casual, local sports bar I know?" The flirt says in his dreamy voice. On the way, in his Mercedes...the cell phone rings and rings...his kids, his ex,..someone named Sara..someone named Sue....then Vicky. In front of the sports bar, he tries to kiss me..but I cruise through the door instead. As soon as it opens, the flirt is shocked. The sports bar has been converted and there's a silver ball hanging overhead and drunks dancing. The flirt asks the blond hostess to please seat us in the dinner portion at the other side of the restaurant. We sit wtih long menus on our table...for a very long time...while the flirt catches me up on what's been happening in his life of radio, the beach and everything else. The waitress, who looks like Carla from Cheers, comes to our table many times, but he keeps giving her a look that indicates we need more time. When we do order, the Boston-flirt asks the Carla look alike what a certain dish is. She throws her little towel over her shoulder, puts a pencil behind her ear and says loudly,"If you don't know..then I ain't tellin' ya." and walks away. The Boston-flirt suddenly has a mischievious grin. "Ah, nice to be here," he says. "He looks like he's up to something....and he is..... But I'm in the newsroom and I really need to get back to writing up an article. Tell ya tomorrow what he did next. ------------ About the author: Chrissa Falcon is a newspaper reporter in the New York Metropolitan Area. Chrissa may be reached at ChrisFalconColumn@hotmail.com Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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