The Man

I stepped on the escalator, my mind off in oblivion. You know how it is when you're looking at someone but you're not really seeing them. That's how I was today. I was staring right at him but my mind was somewhere else. I think it was his smile that brought me to. That's when I realized that I was looking right at The Man. I mouthed the words "hi" and continued on my way up. Oh when--oh when will I learn his name. Or, actually have a conversation with him. That would be really nice.

I think I've written about him before. I went surfing through older entries but can't seem to find it right now. I call him The Man because he so clearly is. He's not a little punk boy like the coffee guy. <-- Don't tell Demi I said that she'll kick me out of the club. My guess is that he is somewhere in his 40s. He's tall. He's gotta be. I'm 5'10" and I wear 2 to 4 inch heals and yet he's taller than me. I first noticed him down by the docks. He was wearing jeans which is kind of strange where I work, unless you're one of the dockworkers but I think they even wear chino-type pants. He wasn't all scruffy though. Very clean-cut and lean. I've passed him a couple of times in the hall and smiled. I think he's an architect and his office is down the hall. I saw him carrying blueprints one day.

Here's the dilemna: Where I work the likelihood of his not being hetero is very high. And, of course if he is then the likelihood of him not being married pretty much kills the rest of any odds that should be in my favor. Mmmh maybe I should never talk to him so the fantasy will remain untarnished. But, that's not my style. One of these days when the opportunity is right I will find my voice and ask him his name and so much more.