Oh. My. God.
I just met the man I want to marry.
I don't say this flippantly.
I don't say this every day, or every week, or every year. I have never said this.
Out for a liquid lunch with a couple of work friends, I saw a stunning man. Not gorgeous, rich and well-dressed sort of superstar-ish stunning; just very handsome, large, dark-haired, kind-looking, with a sparkle in his eye.
Was it only me, was the sparkle just for me?
We were sitting across the restaurant from one another, but we kept looking. Kept locking eyes and looking.
I had to go back to work, and I knew, I just knew, if I let this guy go, I would regret it.
I consulted my friends. One of the guys said, "if you do, you might regret it, but if you don't, you will regret it."
I asked the waitress for a piece of paper, wrote my name on it, wrote "single, looking for a good man", and my phone number. I have never done this.
On my way out, I went up to him, shook his hand, transferring the slip of paper into his hand. I gave him my best burning look. "Nice to meet you," I said, as we were still shaking hands.
"Nice to meet you, too" he said, and his voice was lovely.
I walked away quickly, too embarrassed to do anything else.
One of the people at my table just called me. Apparently, as I walked away, he fell out of his chair!
I so, so, so, so hope he calls.
This didn't turn into anything. A
date, a decent conversation, a
mutual agreement that neither of us were committed enough for any sort of
committment.
His undoing was to brag that he had never read a book in his life. That sort of clinched it for me.