All pretty cliche in one sense or the other. Let me tell you about my weekend. It was pretty laid back and normal for the most part. In an earlier post I mentioned how one of my friends recently lost her mother and Sunday there was a small memorial service for her which I attended.
After the service a handful of us went to a local restaurant for brunch. In any event we make our way from the funeral home to the restaurant and a couple of friends and myself get there first and ask for a suitable table to accommodate the party. Others were taking flowers back home, changing clothes. etc. Its a Key West, outdoorsy, Tiki, old Florida type restaurant. Waitresses in sneakers, shorts, tank tops.
Chapter 2. The Waitress.
I have been in love exactly two times in my life. Once was before I knew what love really was and got involved with a woman whom I didnt really love at all. It was more like, this must be love because this is what I am supposed to do. Buy a ring, get engaged, get married make babies live happily ever after. Got past the engaged part and learned a valuable lesson. It wasn’t love at all but expectation. We’ll call her girl number one.
The next time, I met this woman. Beautiful girl, incredibly sexy, great sense of humor, compatible in every way. Everything came naturally, I could make her laugh, she made me laugh. Same interests, similar backgrounds. Finally I had what I wanted in every single way. This was LOVE. There was no wondering or second guessing. Family and friends loved her. Family and friends who have known me all my life coming up to me commenting, how happy I seemed and have changed, this is it marry this girl. Except there was one small little problem. This girl was and still is to this day the text book example of pathological liar. I dated the girl for many months. She’s fucking married the entire time. When I find out, it was one lie after another which essentially lasted for years afterward. For years I tried to make sense of it and come to terms with how this all happened and basically all I can figure out is if there is a God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, or any other Hocky Cocky supreme being that surely that SOB has one sick sense of humor. In the end though I just go with Karma and imagine I was a real bastard in a past life and have a hell of debt to pay. Anyway we’ll call her girl number two.
So back to yesterdays brunch and the “Waitress”. I start counting on my fingers how many people are coming, she teases me about counting on my fingers I chuckle and she leads us to a table. Now I can tell you at this point I have only interacted and physically saw this girl for all of maybe 120 seconds at this point and I pretended like nothing was happening or my mind wasn’t racing a million miles an hour, but I wont. It probably took me about all of 25 seconds to realize this was in my mind at least an exact clone to girl number two described above. Facial features, mannerisms, body type, hair, eyes, ass, legs, hands.
We had about a twenty minute wait for the rest of the group to show up, and I was literally forcing myself to pay attention to what the others at the table were saying. Internally I was in the midst of my very own panic attack. While watching the waitress help others and not become a drooling idiot or become some leering creep, the voices in my head were on a constant repeat of “keep your shit together schmuck”. It was full on World War 18 in my head and my heart was twisting in such a goddamn knot it was ridiculous on so many levels. This was a simple waitress. Nothing more. She was nice, not flirting. Just a normal everyday encounter with a stranger on the street of gastrointestinal commerce. What the hell?
The rest of the party shows up and sits down. Waitress comes over to help them with drink orders. I try and not stare. I surely fail. I haven’t said anything to anyone at the table at this point. I am half heartedly following along in conversation. In my head I am nearing the end stages of the mental battle of how this waitress has my full attention. I decide I am not going to bring anything up about waitress and girl number two above. It was long ago, I have moved on and at this point all it will look like is insanity. But I cant.
I have to rationalize this or I am going to face being ostracized by my friends. How do I explain this in a way that doesn’t make me look like some love sick weirdo who cant seem to let go of the past? If I say one goddamn thing to my friends at the table about this infatuation I have with the waitress they are going to see right through me. How do I frame this turmoil in my head and heart that doesn’t make me look like some kook?
My close friends know me. I love beautiful women. The reality is, to me and what I consider beautiful comes in may shapes and sizes. While on the outside this all may seem very shallow, I can in fact see beauty in many ways depending on how a woman looks and carries herself. Sure there are such things as nice boobs or legs, or butts, but really its the whole package. Having one good attribute and nothing else doesn’t necessarily make a girl beautiful to me. Its everything combined.
Now I will admit my thoughts on attraction go both ways and I live by the same sword I yield around my head.
However for me when it comes to physical attraction, this waitress was right in my wheelhouse. Oh and by this stage in the brunch with my friends, the gig was F’ing up.
I had to say something. I slowly and deliberately start off with “I have something to say and let me just start off like this…” I attempt to explain beauty and what I find attractive. I essentially get out about half a sentence about looks and whole package blah blah blah and get one look and grin from my friend Amy who I sometimes forget knows me much better then I give her credit for. Amy cuts me off at the knees with, “That waitress is all you Brocky she looks exactly like girl number two.”
The table laughs, and it was like a ton of bricks lifted from my back. I was busted and there was no more rationalizations or denying it. I slapped my hand on the table and simply say, “I would right this minute burn this goddamn restaurant down to the ground for that waitress.” Someone at the table asks, “the waitresses what? To go out with you?” I very simply reply, “nope, just for her telephone number.” Some more laughter from friends. I half heartedly laugh too, if only to ease their minds and not show them how serious I was.
I didn’t get her number. I didn’t commit a felonious crime and burn the place to the ground. My other friend Debbie who does work for the state taxing authority is going to lien the restaurant out of business until she finds out the waitresses marital status and contact information. Ok that parts a joke, but I did swear I’d paint her house and cut her grass all summer if she did find out.
The irony and silliness of all this is, I don’t have game to approach this girl. Chances are I’ll never see this girl again. I used to be confident in my younger days but now I am like pft. I could have asked any one of my four lady friends at the table to approach her and I am sure they would have. Heck they offered. I denied. I think in my mind because of all the emotional upheaval I experienced from girl number two above, I don’t want to know the truth about this waitress. In my mind she is perfection she is everything girl number two was without the horrible pathological liar part. In my mind this one will stay pure. This one will be forever framed in my mind of her awesomeness for that one great meal with my friends. I wont look back at the wasted time and lost trust with this waitress.
Don’t get me wrong, I Facebook stalked the restaurants page trying to find her two blocks after leaving the place yesterday. No luck. If I run into her again somewhere, somehow, I’ll make my move if favorable conditions exist. But I know what reality is, and generally theres that Karma thing too. I accept everything and live by my choices. Sure there is the what if’s and I may never knows but no matter what yesterday and today perfect waitress girl proves to me again, you just never know what may happen. Until it does thank you waitress girl.
Well that was my weekend. Emotionally it was busy, experiencing loss and love but in the end no matter what happens with friends and family by your side, there is always, hope.
Let ‘er rip, tater chips,