t-shirts and
French accents who were studying a map and muttering to each other.
They were so delighted when I helped them find their hotel that
they insisted I take a coupon they'd been given for a free slice of
cake at a nearby bakery.
While eating said delicious cake, I started a
conversation with three women at a nearby table who were also
indulging. When they mentioned they could burn it off at their
bellydance class I stretched myself a little further, refusing to
worry if they thought me pushy, and asked when and where. Theirs
was the advanced class, but they cheerfully gave me the information
about Friday's beginners class and I promised I'd go. I'd never
been a dancer, though people assumed I was because of my thin body
and small build, and the sexy nature of bellydance made it seem
like the scariest possible place to begin. So I would begin
there.
They left, and I finished my cake then
waddled out into the street, stuffed solid. Moving slower than
before, I was passing a jewelry stand when I saw a man with
earrings in both hands and a confused expression. I cleared my
throat, pushing away the memories of my awkwardness with the nail
polish guy and the jerk on the subway, and said, "Trying to make a
decision?"
He looked up. "Trying and failing."
I smiled. "Who are they for?"
"My girlfriend."
He didn't hesitate to say it, and I liked it.
This one wouldn't assume I was after him, or be after me. "Just for
a present, or is there an occasion?"
He sighed. "Her grandmother died last night.
I know earrings can't fix that but she's always liked the jewelry
here so I thought..." He shrugged helplessly.
The back of my throat tightened. So sweet.
"I'm sure it'll help. And it's nice of you. So, why these
pairs?"
She'd apparently said one was pretty the last
time they'd been by, and the other was a perfect match to a
necklace he pointed out, which she'd bought from the stand a few
weeks back and wore often.
"Then I say the second pair."
"Really? But I know she likes the other
one."
"True. But you also know she likes the
necklace, and this way she'll know you noticed the
necklace."
He considered this then said, "I get it. And
I'll get them. Thanks."
I smiled. "No problem. I hope she loves
them."
"Me too. Hey, thanks for the help."
I smiled again. "My pleasure."
Moving on, feeling proud of myself for
helping and for stretching my wings, I realized I only needed one
more of each gender to complete the task I'd set. To my surprise, I
didn't want to stop yet. With every successful contact, the memory
of the subway guy became less painful.
So I spent the rest of the evening roaming
around and chatting up the populace of Toronto, eventually finding
myself in an impromptu learn-to-crochet class in a yarn store. The
owner was about to show someone else how to do it when I walked in,
and I said at once, "Can I try too?"
At first I had no idea what I was doing, but
then the starting chain began to come together. The other woman
grew frustrated and left fairly quickly, but I stayed for an hour,
meeting more and more women as they arrived for their regular
Monday 'knit night' and having a wonderful time. By the end, I'd
lost count of how many women I'd talked to and I had a good start
on a beautiful teal cotton scarf for spring and a deep love for a
hobby I'd never even considered trying. I'd had a friend in
university who knit, and Alex had carried on like it was the
weirdest 'old lady' hobby ever. He'd probably feel the same about
me crocheting, but he'd have to get used to it because I liked it.
For someone lacking in creativity like me, seeing the ball of yarn
gradually becoming an actual object and knowing I was the one
making that happen was fascinating.
When the store was about to close, I bought
enough yarn for my cotton scarf and more for a winter one and a few
more crochet hooks and a pattern book, and was heading for the
subway station when I realized I still needed to find another man
to talk to. I'd gone well
French accents who were studying a map and muttering to each other.
They were so delighted when I helped them find their hotel that
they insisted I take a coupon they'd been given for a free slice of
cake at a nearby bakery.
While eating said delicious cake, I started a
conversation with three women at a nearby table who were also
indulging. When they mentioned they could burn it off at their
bellydance class I stretched myself a little further, refusing to
worry if they thought me pushy, and asked when and where. Theirs
was the advanced class, but they cheerfully gave me the information
about Friday's beginners class and I promised I'd go. I'd never
been a dancer, though people assumed I was because of my thin body
and small build, and the sexy nature of bellydance made it seem
like the scariest possible place to begin. So I would begin
there.
They left, and I finished my cake then
waddled out into the street, stuffed solid. Moving slower than
before, I was passing a jewelry stand when I saw a man with
earrings in both hands and a confused expression. I cleared my
throat, pushing away the memories of my awkwardness with the nail
polish guy and the jerk on the subway, and said, "Trying to make a
decision?"
He looked up. "Trying and failing."
I smiled. "Who are they for?"
"My girlfriend."
He didn't hesitate to say it, and I liked it.
This one wouldn't assume I was after him, or be after me. "Just for
a present, or is there an occasion?"
He sighed. "Her grandmother died last night.
I know earrings can't fix that but she's always liked the jewelry
here so I thought..." He shrugged helplessly.
The back of my throat tightened. So sweet.
"I'm sure it'll help. And it's nice of you. So, why these
pairs?"
She'd apparently said one was pretty the last
time they'd been by, and the other was a perfect match to a
necklace he pointed out, which she'd bought from the stand a few
weeks back and wore often.
"Then I say the second pair."
"Really? But I know she likes the other
one."
"True. But you also know she likes the
necklace, and this way she'll know you noticed the
necklace."
He considered this then said, "I get it. And
I'll get them. Thanks."
I smiled. "No problem. I hope she loves
them."
"Me too. Hey, thanks for the help."
I smiled again. "My pleasure."
Moving on, feeling proud of myself for
helping and for stretching my wings, I realized I only needed one
more of each gender to complete the task I'd set. To my surprise, I
didn't want to stop yet. With every successful contact, the memory
of the subway guy became less painful.
So I spent the rest of the evening roaming
around and chatting up the populace of Toronto, eventually finding
myself in an impromptu learn-to-crochet class in a yarn store. The
owner was about to show someone else how to do it when I walked in,
and I said at once, "Can I try too?"
At first I had no idea what I was doing, but
then the starting chain began to come together. The other woman
grew frustrated and left fairly quickly, but I stayed for an hour,
meeting more and more women as they arrived for their regular
Monday 'knit night' and having a wonderful time. By the end, I'd
lost count of how many women I'd talked to and I had a good start
on a beautiful teal cotton scarf for spring and a deep love for a
hobby I'd never even considered trying. I'd had a friend in
university who knit, and Alex had carried on like it was the
weirdest 'old lady' hobby ever. He'd probably feel the same about
me crocheting, but he'd have to get used to it because I liked it.
For someone lacking in creativity like me, seeing the ball of yarn
gradually becoming an actual object and knowing I was the one
making that happen was fascinating.
When the store was about to close, I bought
enough yarn for my cotton scarf and more for a winter one and a few
more crochet hooks and a pattern book, and was heading for the
subway station when I realized I still needed to find another man
to talk to. I'd gone well
Similar Books
