Seeing as I've been a negligent blogger, I figure I should post, and if there is one man I love to talk about it's the one in Charlotte. So here goes nothing...
I was on my way back from an impromptu trip to San Diego. I'd flown off rather impulsively with my best man friend on a visit to his home town and we had booked ourselves on different flights for the trip back to home sweet home. After loitering in LAX for over 3 hours and purchasing a couple of books, it was finally time to board the plane home, and while I wasn't exactly psyched to be leaving Cali I was quite happy to be leaving the airport. File ahead to me walking down the aisle of the plan and awkwardly shoving my roller back in to the upper compartment, I catch sight of the row I'm sitting in and low and behold, there is a man, a good looking one, staring back at me in a carefully pressed pink button up shirt. Wavy dirty blond hair and a big grin, he was sooo just checking out my butt... I walk over to the row and he makes room for me to sit, and this time instead of promptly putting my headphones in and hiding them under my hair, I casually place one of the books I've purchased in my lap and play nonchalant. This lasts about 3 minutes, and we both start chatting about airplanes, and airplane food with our third seatmate (we'll call her "Window Seat"). Somehow "Window Seat" abandons our conversation, and just the two of us are left chatting. It turns out he had just read my nonchalantly placed book, "A Long Way Gone" and is also an avid reader. He's also an avid chatter, and the two of us spar back and forth with jokes and random comments, every so often falling in to deeper conversation for the two hour flight. It turns out he's on his way to meet with the head of "Lululemon", hes a marketing something or other and knows plenty about my favourite yoga wear manufacturer. I happen to be dressed from head to toe in their garb and planning on becoming an instructor this summer. (Fate right???) But honestly, there's a spark, a connection, something I haven't felt before and I'm blown over. When the plane finally heads for landing we both get a little panicky and start to come up with subtle requests for a date the next day. He needs some good sushi, I'm a local... it would be horrible for me not to show him around. Ahh... so we exchange numbers, I receive a business card and he receives my name jotted on a random piece of paper with my cell number on it. We have to part ways... he's a green card holder (US green card holder that is... do Canadians have green cards?) and I'm simply a Canadian citizen. I carefully, tuck away his card and go to pick up the rest of my luggage. My brother's there to pick me up, and I head home to luxuriate in a bubble bath and then to curl up in bed. I'm not used to flights and I'm exhausted. But before I fall asleep I receive several text messages from Monsieur (yes, we both also "parle francais") which exclaim how happy he was to have met me and how much we have in common... blah, blah, blah... I day the same back and we agree to meet tomorrow, for sushi of course.
More later, I can't limit this one to a single blog... Mr. Charlotte could honestly be a book for me.
Must get over him, must get over him, must get over him...
xoxoxo
SB
PS. I used spell check this time round.
PPS. Am currently listening to too much Mariah Carey. Am almost inspired to be vengeful regarding breakups but decided a nasty email cc'ing all Mr. Microsoft's friends would be childish (but oh so funny).
PPPS. Realize Mr. Microsoft hasn't come up yet, but as I only have one reader at this point, who happens to know all my man stories, rather, most of my man stories, it seemed to be appropriate.
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