"A Coffee and a Nosh sounds good..." you said. "Meet me at the Salt Lake Roasting Company. I'll be the one with the frosted hair.""I'll probably be the only one in a suit." I said. You laughed at that one, pretty hard. Maybe too hard. "My hair is a little, as you say, frosted as well." I said.
But as I sit here with the unmistakable pungent aroma of coffee and nosh permeating my being, I have come to the conclusion that you have either forgotten about our appointment, or you have chosen to trick me. Trickery is common when someone is meeting someone for the first time.
As I sit here, I watch what appears to be the local VFW meeting in one corner. They are discussing something about Japan, though I can't make it out exactly. You know when you realize you are being totally obvious that you are listening in and you are afraid you are going to get caught? That's what I am doing. They are talking about Mercury or something, certainly not the planet. Maybe the car. In another corner I can see a man dressed in a business casual outfit speaking to a woman. Above the din I can hear words like ".. a lot of success in Canada...." and "...a person in your position...". A Northwestern type grunge man, or as some would call him a hippy, is pounding away at his laptop with his headphones in. So cliche. So Starbucks. You are now 20 minutes late. My official cutoff time is 25 minutes. I notice a woman leaving the counter with a pastry on a plate in one hand and a balancing act involving coffee in the other. She has somewhat frosted hair. I almost hope it's not you. At this point, this late, I figure you're more embarrassed than happy to see me, so let's just bypass the pleasantries. I will slip out the back door, you can enjoy your nosh. You'll figure I was killed in a freakish computer accident at work, or perhaps accosted for being the only person in a suit in this joint. I will call you and leave a message at your house indicating I waited until 20 after and then had to get back to the office. But our eyes meet, and immediately she notices that I AM the only person in this joint in a suit. She notices my Merrill Lynch binder on the small, round table in front of me. A sense of familiarity immediately is apparent on her face.
"Barbara?" I ask.
"Brian?"
Dang it.
4 comments:
I don't know how I feel about you hooking up with old ladies sporting frosted hair.
What in the sam is "nosh"? -Gina
Brian, is it? I rather enjoyed this post. But how can you be sure the old-timers were talking about a car? You never know, these days.
Painful. I was with you all the way through and I laughed out loud at the end. That's right I'm still not using tech words like LOL. Except to explain that I don't use them.
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