On the way home from last night’s Tribal activities in Brooklyn, I stopped at Gristede’s for something frozen. I was melting.
While nothing screams, SINGLE like a late night Hagen Daas purchase, I don’t usually mind. I do single like Michael Jackson does crazy — with gusto. So I flounced down the aisle in my sweater set and summer skirt (having a new appreciation for my calves, which Krissa has deemed nice and curvy), snagged some cookie-dough ice cream, and headed toward the register.
That’s when I saw him.
My last thought, after he looked up and smiled at me and just before I lost all cognitive abilities was, “Holy shit, I forgot they made them like that.”
Tall, tan, sparkly blue eyes, wavy brown hair and damn if that white t-shirt didn’t fit like a dream. I undizzied myself for the forty-five seconds it took to pay for my ice cream. He’d finished paying, too. Our brief encounter at the automatic door produced nothing more than his “Have a good night” to which I responded…
Absolutely nothing.
He smelled like sunscreen and clean laundry, two scents which shall now register on my list of aphrodisiacs (right up there with regular Trident and warm vanilla). I smiled, which may have seemed coy (one can only hope), but the truth was, I was speechless – all butterflies and libido. Seconds later when we’d left the store, he went left and I froggered my way across the street — the two of us headed in separate directions supposed to happen in these kinds of encounters.
As I fumbled with my key in the gate, I thought again, “Holy shit, I forgot they made them like that.”
It was a fucking fantastic reminder that they do.
You did better than I normally do.
My brain is thinking madly “say something, say something, say anything, anything at all”
I normally say something really dumb.
Grrrr. He sounds like one of those guys you want to leap on and lick.
Damn woman! Next time you need to get a phone number!
I was at the beach last week. With my Tween daughter and her friend. Lying next to us was this…this…oh….this GOD. Okay he was younger than me (but, at 45 who isn’t?). He had swaying, wavy brown hair, George-Michaels stubble and a tan, fit body, silver earings. I almost lost it when he decided to touch his nipples as he was talking to his friend about getting them pierced. Over the line, I know…but Jesus on a Hoodsie Pop, I had to run into the frigid water to cool off.
If someone is uber hot I accidentally act like I hate them; perish forbid they should KNOW that someone thinks they are cute. I don’t know why. I have the stupid.
Jen. At least it easy to tell if you like someone then.
You should have grabbed him and inhaled deeply from his chest then let go and left. What a great story you both would have! Not that you don’t have a great story now.
(Plus, there’s a possiblity he’ll be back there again.)
yeah but somewhere, somebody is sick of his shit
Ha! I’m just like Jen. If they’re hot, chances are, they know they’re hot, and I’d hate to add to their ego because a big ego just makes them hideous.
And I think you need to return to that store every night until you see him again.
Tan, gorgeous and a tight white t-shirt in NYC? I’m so, so sorry – I can’t help myself, but my first thought would likely be, “I’ll bet he’s not really into girls…”
I, too, were I in fish’s shoes, would be hovering nightly around Promising Cute Guy spot. However, that would lead to the purchase of many pints of cookie dough or mint chip and when I finally grabbed him to sniff his shirt, he might feel a little… well, tackled.
i just wanted to say a big huge thankyou… reading your post, i was reminded of this cool drink of water i knew in my first year at sydney university, and so i did a quick internet search and found a picture on a malaysian swimming site. if it hadn’t been for your “i forgot they made them like that” comment, i doubt i would have remembered he even existed. so thanks.
you have a gift for words that makes me extremely envious.
wow, these comments are better than reading cosmo at the dentist office.
I like the regular trident smell, too.
Great strategy on the part of Jen and Allison, act like you hate guys your attracted to. Wonder your all single and lonely.
I require two things from insults, Joe. One, that they be founded on truth. (Jen is neither single, nor lonely) Two, that they not defeat themselves by being ignorant. (I think the word you’re searching for is… you’RE).
A bit of decent grammar goes a long way.
Bravo, Fish. Bravo.
CUNT! I think you’ll find that meets both of your insult requirements.
Dear “Joe,”
Do you value your job at KPMG? Perhaps this is where I tell you that I have emailed your webmaster with your IP address and asked that I be spared lewd communication from KPMG’s employees. Now, I could just block you. But it’s more fun this way.
I have a low tolerance for such things.
Kindly fuck off,
H
PS Thank you for improving your grammar for us. The effort was noted.
Ah, he must be the same KPMG employee who left a strange comment on my site a few weeks ago. (I’m not linking to it cos it’s not updated.) Probably starved for attention because he kept coming back to my site even though his comment was ignored. Dork.