Monday, November 24, 2003

Missed connections

Talk about your missed connections.

He was sitting right across the aisle from me, shifting uncomfortably in a cracked plastic seat by the gate at Midway, while I stole long glances -- furtively, I thought -- at him over the script I was reading.

In fact, I was reading the same page again and again, I realized. I didn't realize that my stealthy glances were anything but. Chalk it up to caffeine deprivation and a heart that was racing a little bit in spite of it. But I didn't talk to him, didn't bother to strike up a conversation even though he was glancing back and making no attempt to disguise his attention. He had closed his book -- Eggers, but that can be forgiven -- and held it on his lap. Which is where I was staring with alternate glances. Well, wouldn't you?

I mean, just look at him, in full, as I did not, at least not all at once. Rusty hair, freckled and flushed, trim waist, full torso, jeans and boots, grin and chin. Totally my type, right? Late 20s, maybe, early 30s? Fit as a fiddle and ready to diddle?

Didn't say a word, though. I didn't, I mean, but then neither did he. They called group "B" and I joined the herd and headed home, leaving the handsome boy in the departure lounge to resume his reading -- which he didn't, I noticed in the security mirror by the door, as I watched him watch me -- and then to make his way to his own destination.

Which, as it turns out, was St. Louis, the exploratory trip, first of two, and then to stay, for a while anyway. And then by some miraculous convergence of technology, cupidity and dumb luck, he finally started the conversation we could have had seven weeks ago.

Look before you leap, they advise. I looked but didn't leap. And it seems as though I've been doing that more and more recently, not from maturity, not from fatigue, certainly not because I'm shy or circumspect. (Please!)

But I've been doing it, more window-shopping than buying, more glancing than going for it. I got into a rut and called it a groove, as a friend once said. I needed a little kick to get me back in the game and I'm gonna get one tonight, I think, for the price of a pizza. His name is Derrick and he's bringing the beer.