The Red Truck Clueless

Ok, so I was throwing my anti-shine powder into my paisley purse, unbuckling my belt and sitting back thinking I’d go in a few, talk to the hostess, and provide my normal this-is-weird-but-I’m-on-an-internet-date spiel.

Only, as previously mentioned, I never got the chance.

A red truck pulled in and parked, and I thought, “Ok. Here we go…”

A man got out.

I got out.

A woman got out.

And, there I was, standing with a nice-to-meet-you smile plastered on my face wondering if I should stop that or not, and how weird it would look if I did, or didn’t. Or how much weirder it would look if I just got back in my car, as opposed to following them in with a smile, or without.

I hadn’t completely run through all the possibilities, which I’m sure I could have spun around in my mind until I was so dizzy with un-decision I would just have to get back in my car and sit down.

But, I was saved from that scenario. Another red truck pulled in, coming to rest one car and two empty spaces away.

Awkward paralyzation was a thing, even before things were things.

So was gravitational pull, or first-sight familiarity, or whatever made me head straight toward the man who got of out that truck.

We met just a little past the middle, closer to his ride than mine.

“Jeff?” I asked.

“Jodi?” he asked.

We broke out in nods and smiles.

I’m here to swear, he said it.

If he was here, he’d swear I said it.

He might be right, but truly, it was so uncharacteristically not me that perhaps I’m still just too amazed to concede.

However, since we both heard it, and both thought it was a good idea, it happened.

“Do you believe in hugs at first sight?”

So, that’s what we did. And I tell people, “I still don’t know what happened, but he took my hand never let go.”

As we walked into the pub, as we walked to a booth, as we sat down across from each other and tried to talk over the Friday night din and loud, musical pumping noise, he held on.

Rather than leaning halfway in across the table to hear each other, still holding my hand Jeff swung around to my side of the booth.

Our waitress came around and took our arrangement in stride. She also took our identical drink orders, left menus and had to come back around a few times until we ordered two appetizers.

I can’t tell you what we talked about. I can tell you, we never stopped talking.

And that Jeff complimented me on the one thing I never would have expected him to.

Quote for the Week:

Sometimes, the sheer delight of unexpected draws 11 2 15

Enjoy the Week’s Discovery Links:

The Color Chart:

How You Hold:

The Opposite Advantage:




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