The Reader

Last night I was shopping at my local CVS, picking up some new hair ties and the like, when I looked up and there Heaven on Seven was, in his dark grey wool coat, floating by on a cloud of hearts. And he was carrying a very thick black book. Which piqued my interest, because it looked identical to the fourth Twilight novel. (Team Edward 4 Life.)

So now I had to know if my superfine neighbor was a studious scholar or a Stephanie Meyer fan. Sink or swim time, man. I can't date a guy who spends his evenings quietly turning the pages of a teenage/vampire romance novel.

Hair ties in hand, I sauntered toward the register where he was checking out. He still didn't know I was behind him, and I don't know his name, so I had to be that creepy girl just standing behind him. Naturally I took advantage of this time to try and see the title of his book. But he set it on the counter when he went to pay and I couldn't see anything!!

Twilight or not?! Manly man or total wimp?!

Heaven on Seven picked up his bag and slowly turned to go, when he noticed someone was behind him. He did a double take and said, "What's up?" He pulled the book up under his arm, and all I could see was the shiny black jacket. Stop moving your book!

My heart was pounding at this point as I casually replied, "Not much, how are you?"

I could feel my face get hot and the room seemed to disappear. Gone were the two girls in line behind me buying wine, away went the tired-looking cashier who was probably close to his break. It was just me and him. And the mystery novel.

"Good, good. Ready for the weekend."

"Yeah, me too. Long week," I replied.

"I hear ya. Well have a good night!" he said.

"You too." And call me. And make me breakfast in bed. And flash me another one of your contagious smiles.

He smiled and walked out, and I was out of the Heaven haze and back in CVS. I scrambled to see if I could get another glimpse at his book, as I handed my hair ties to Walter. No luck. And now I'll never know. But my head was spinning from the endorphins. If I was in high school, I'd go home and stare at his picture in my yearbook.

But I don't even know his name. So that's probably should be the priority at this point. The problem is that once you start running into someone and you never actually introduce yourselves, it starts to get super awkward. You know each other but you don't know each other.
So that's the next step. Introduce myself. Oh boy. Deep breath.

Why can't we all wear name tags? That should be a law. People would be much friendlier. Can you imagine how much nicer the world would be if you needed to get around someone on the street and could say, "Excuse me, Dawn"? Or if that homeless woman who lives on the corner by my train stop said, "Hey Julie, got any change?" I might feel more compelled to give her the 3 quarters in my purse.

And Heaven on Seven would be Dave or Kevin or Luke. But for now he's just the cute guy on the 7th floor who may or may not read Twilight.

I need to know more.