Wednesday, December 10, 2003

So there's this guy who comes into the burrito place I work at, about once a week, usually on Wednesdays. I've developed a little crush on him, and yet I can barely do more than say "hey, how's it going, that'll be $8.69, do you need utensils?" I can't seem to get myself to be a bit clearer that I would like to get to know him. Maybe because I'm not really sure if I want to. He's handsome, but not in a conventional manner, I suppose (which is a good thing to me). His appeal is that he has this smile, this face, that you just know is just so cuddley. He seems to light up when I say HI, and it's that kind of smile that looks so cool cuz you know you put it there, ya know? He has that REM-fan look - a bit scruffy, loose-fitting levis, all-cotton layered baseball cap wearing (gosh, now that I think about it, I have no idea what his hair looks like, IF he has hair!) But his manner, his demeanor is warm, relaxed, a bit shy.

So the other day, when he called to order his take-out (I now recognize his voice over the phone), for the first time I asked for his name. He seemed a bit surprised, but I clearly did it the wrong way. I said "May I have a name, please?" - yeah, a name, not your name. Gosh, he may have made one up just to be a smart-ass. And then, idiot that I am, I didn't even use it, or try the teeniest bit of flirting when he got there, just handed him his bag of food, with the receipt and his name tagged on the outside. "hey, how's it going, that'll be $8.69."

I think I am afraid of ruining it. Not that there's a lot there, just a once or twice a week moment where some nice guy makes me feel handsome and likeable just by his smile and hello. When I was in that barberchair the other night at the sexclub, and that couple I am mad about were pacing back and forth and I was feeling blue, I was actually experiencing some of the anxious, fearful feelings I've had when I was in a relationship. That "what have I done wrong"" feeling; that "why won't he tell me how he feels?" feeling; that "does he still like me?" feeling. It was quite awful, even if under the circumstances it might seem silly to most people. But that anxiety-ridden insecurity that seems common for me when I really dig someone. I hate it, I certainly don't miss it - and yet I am (fairly) certain that it is worth it if you get the pay-off; the chance to be someone's prince charming - put that smile on his face, make him know he's loved and cared for, all that gooshy stuff.

I dunno. the burrito-man usually comes by on Wednesdays, (he didn't last Wednesday, and broke my heart - the agony!) and I've imagined all sorts of tacky ways to show my interest. (Rubbing my massive crotch-bulge while winking at him - but that wouldn't work as I'm behind a counter; carving my phone number in guacamole on his burrito; circling the "amount due" on his receipt in a big red heart.....) But maybe "tacky" isn't the way to go, eh?