Six years ago today.
I walked into Bosco’s looking for a tall blond man. His on-line pictures (all two of them) were blurry and old, at best. I had prepared myself for a weird, potentially creepy dude. I sat right next to the door and waited. He was late.
About 10 minutes later, a really tall and really thin blonde man came barreling through the door and made a beeline for the bar. He stood a full head amongst the Nashvillian Bosco beer drinkers. He looked left, he looked right. He looked into the restaurant. I sat right next to the door and watched him with a stupid grin on my face. He finally made eye contact with me and and I smiled. He smiled and coolly walked over to me like he’d been there the whole damn time.
We sat. We spoke. We ordered. I had a portabella salad. He had shrimp and grits that he stirred and stirred and stirred before he finally decided to eat them. I sat with my legs propped up on the booth. He would refer to this as my “S-Shape” for always afterwards. He told me liked the shape of my face.
I grabbed his hands when he mentioned MC Solar. “I like MC Solar TOO!”
Much like this stupid spring, it was cool then too. He walked me to my car and when we were waiting for the light to change, I stepped inside his jacket. What? I was COLD!
At my car, I offered to drive him to his. He accepted. I dropped him off and he turned to me, offered his cheek and said, “Knock me one.”
So I did.