I was on my way to my mother's and bumped into Starbucks Dude while he was out having a smoke with Radar, the new stock boy from the grocery. The grocery is next door to my mother's building.
"Hey Darling! Come here. " he screamed at me. Seriously, the whole parking lot turned to see who the hell was the moron screaming. I'm standing there, my purse falling off my shoulder cause of my winter coat. We said our hellos and I waited some more. Finally SD says to me as he lights a second cigarette "I caught your blog last night. And you need to tell the guy you were talking about that you're sorry."
"What guy?" Radar asked not wanting to be the only one standing there looking stupid. But given the fact Radar looks like something that fell out of a hippie's back pocket - long stringy hair that falls over his eyes and down to his neck- he's too late on that regard.
"Which guy hon. I talk about a bunch of guys. Mostly wrestlers. So could you vague that up for me a bit."
"The Celebrity. The one you said you don't love anymore. That's bullshit and we both know it." heavy drag on his cigarette then another then he got a message on his phone. I waited for a moment while he read the text and texted back. "He's still reading you right?"
"Far as I know. Why?"
"Then if he read your blog from last night, he's going to be feeling rejected. You want him. Take him. But you've got to shut your mouth a bit. You scare guys sometimes. Not meaning this to be asshole but, you do. You go on and on about how being famous doesn't matter and you know what? It doesn't. But no guy is going to put up with how you talk sometimes. I'm just saying, if you don't slack back a bit with things... "
"He's seeing someone right now so it doesn't matter. " I answered staring at a small spot of mustard on the edge of Starbucks Dude's hand. Lest I hope it was mustard. I think it was mustard. SD shrugged at me. Shrugged. what the hell does a shrug mean in a man's mind? Radar quietly stubbed out his own cigarette butt and nodded as his break was over, and walked away. He must have thought we were totally gonzolo.
"Fine. Don't take my word for it but I think if you tell him you're sorry he'll be fine with you. Unless he's got tires for skin you've gone and hurt him this time with your crap. No man wants to feel like he's been rejected."
"Aren't you the one who told me only a few months ago that I could do better?" I wanted to slap him right then I really did, only I know he'd slap me right back if I did. He shrugged again! Damn it! Then he started talking about some band he went and saw the other night and that was pretty much the lot of it.
I have not been able to get this whole thing out of my mind in the last few hours. Not sure if I should be mad or insulted or what?
Or worse, that Starbucks Dude might be right on this.