In Which Ted Loses the Love of His Life
I was muttering to myself about the difference in carbs between white corn and flour tortillas when I saw you out of the corner of my eye. As I straightened up, our eyes met, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as the transit of my hand to my grocery cart slowed to a crawl.
Those eyes. Deep, mocha brown, smoldering as they burned a hole into my memory, resetting my heartbeat as I felt my pulse rise to a frantic staccato in my chest. I opened my mouth to speak and found myself struck dumb by her very aura, my tongue frozen in my mouth. With an effort, I managed to breath out a shy "hi" as we passed, and immediately regretted it. You smiled shyly, lighting up the unnatural glow of the flourescent bulbs. As I walked past, I couldn't help but take a slow, longing look over my shoulder. The tight green workout pants clung to your every contour below the waist, the heavy jacket you had on over that tantalizing the imagination with what might be underneath. Your silky dark brown hair was back, clinging to your head in damp waves. As the distance between us opened, I could see others in the grocery store slowing or even stopping, hypnotized as I was with your beauty, the innocently sensual manner in which you carried yourself.
I saw you again a little while later as I browsed the produce section, trying to decide between the Endive and the Greenleaf, silently cursing Von's for running out of Romaine. The produce manager, as if by instinct, turned from restocking the carrots as you approached, his work forgotten as he made a beeline towards you, reading the questioning look that passed across your face. I tried my hardest to look casual as I moved towards the peppers and sugar snap peas, in easy earshot as you started talking to him. Making a concerted effort not to appear too interested, I could nonetheless feel you glance in my direction as I started comparing asparagus bundles. As you asked him about the differences between kinds of melons, I could faintly detect your accent- but not well enough to tell what it was. I continued looking at various vegetables, waiting for the produce manager to leave, but that moment never came as I moved on to the rest of my shopping.
I was waiting for the checkout line when I felt your gaze on me again. Turning around as I started unloading my cart, I saw you in the next aisle over, and as I turned my head in your direction, our eyes met again in a long, full, even gaze. Around me, the beeping sound of the cashier ringing up my purchases faded and the motions of the other people in my field of vision slowed to an andante timing as we held each other's gaze. I could feel my hot blood decelerating in its passage through my veins as my heart stood still for a moment in time-
"Sir, is there anything else?"
The cashier's interruption yanked me back to reality, and around me the world accelerated back to it's normal pace, as if the seeming eternity we'd gazed at each other had gone unnoticed to everybody but us.
Our moment. Our private, secret moment. Gone before it began, but never to be forgotten.
As I finished paying, I quickly walked out of the grocery store to the car, still feeling her gaze on my back as I walked out the door. What do I do now? Why hadn't I had the balls to stop and say something to her earlier? What kind of a desperate idiot would I look like if I walked back in right now?
Grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket, fumbling with the touchpad as I frantically tried to find Megan's cell phone number. If anybody would know what to do in this situation, it'd be her.
"Help! I just fell in love with a girl I saw in the grocery store! But I was finished checking out before she was! What do I do to not look like a total idiot??"
I could hear her amusment, and surprise, through the phone. Finished unloading the groceries in my trunk, and suddenly "remembered" that I'd forgotten to pick up one last thing for one of my roommates (seeing as they're all out to sea for the next 3 months). Strode back in the door, my head screwed back on, ready to walk up and start a conversation, introduce myself, ready to take that step off the high dive without looking down into the pool below me.
She was gone.
I was crushed, but casually made a quick round of the supermarket, pretending to have a hard time finding what I was looking for. Nothing in sight. After I paid (again), muttering something about flaky roommates I walked back outside, taking the long way across the parking lot to my car. Nowhere in sight. With my hopes deflated faster than a Goodyear blimp shot with a Patriot missle, I climbed into my car, started the engine, and headed for home.
This is odd- I haven't had a girl do that to me on the first glance (at least with her clothes on) in longer than I can remember.... I feel like Jerry O'Connell's character from the movie Buying the Cow after he first spots his mystery girl in the diner. Will I ever see her again? God, I hope so... she obviously lives in the area (and I'm guessing she had just come from the Fitness West upstairs), and I'm REALLY glad I made that stop by Music Trader before I went to Von's. Maybe there was a reason for that? Who knows- but I know I'm going to do a LOT more grocery shopping on Saturday evenings...