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Bock-Lustre
06 October 2003
4 21.00

I saw him tonight.

I was actually looking pretty good today, as I'd put a little effort into my appearance for a change -- clean-shaven, hair more carefully coiffed than the usual gel & mess, nice white button-down shirt, college crest tie, trousers by Kenneth Cole, shoes by Barrie Ltd., and that tan corduroy blazer I got at Abercrombie & Fitch a year or two ago.

He was the epitome of my ideal mate (in appearance, anyway). Well-dressed, all pumpkin and navy Argyle sweater and everything in its right place. He walked into Blockbuster on Chapel as I was waiting, tired, sick, annoyed, for what seemed an interminably long time for a clerk.

He looked straight at me. I must not have concealed my wonder well, for after I looked away, then looked back, he shot me a look which might have been hostility, or perhaps it was just misinterpreted through my paranoia-filtered lens. I immediately pretended I was looking at the video monitor behind him. ("I'm brave, but I'm chicken-shit," too, thanks, Alanis.) He paused at the counter, retuning his movies, stared for a moment, then strode briskly through the store, looking me directly in the eye as he passed me halfway back, into the new releases. I probably flinched as he passed (I NEVER flinch), with his perfect golden skin, slightly wavy brown hair, green (at least I think they were green?) eyes. I prayed he'd find nothing he was looking for on the shelves and catch up to me as I was leaving. He didn't.

I wandered slowly down the street, still hopeful, and was accosted by a local pan-handler whom I recognised. He opened with the usual line which some of them favour: "Can I ask you a question?" Sometimes I say, "Sure, but make it quick," being in a hurry and knowing full well what they'll ask and that it's pointless as I almost never carry cash. Sometimes, I'm colder, and it's, "You just did," as I keep walking. Tonight, it was the former, and he pointed at the Subway right next to me and asked if I'd buy him a sandwich. When I pointed out that I had no cash, he countered with the information that they took credit cards. I confirmed this inside (much to my surprise, as there was no sign on the or at the register showing that they accepted plastic) with the clerk, who did not seem at all happy to be taking the guy's order. They guy asked if he could get the combo meal, rather than just the sandwich, and I said, "Sure, go ahead." What's $7 to me, really? I order single drinks that cost that, and tip the waitress or bartender the rest of the tenner without a second thought. And when was the last time I did something nice for a stranger, particularly one who is unlikely to be able to offer me much in return?

We walked out of Subway, he thanking me, I bidding him good-night and take care, just in time for me to see DreamBoy getting into his responsible silver car half a block up, gunning the enging and tearing off down the street. I noted his plate number, determined it was pointless, and promptly forgot both it and the make and model of the car.

Exiting the elevator when I arrived home, I had the thought that I really am, as my Mother would say, "a handsome devil." Why, then, must I go so weak in the presence of beauty?

If you know him...If you see him...

Tell him that though I'm not sure I believe relationships are a natural state of affairs, I'm lonely, and I'd very much like to be in one.

Tell him that while I'm easily overlooked, written-off, discarded, once you really get to know me, I'm not so easily forgotten.

Tell him that I'm heroically honest and ferociously loyal.

Tell him that I'm razor-witted and intoxicatingly fun, once I get past my fear of coming out to play.

Tell him that I know I need some work, but the raw materials here are of the highest quality available in the world.

Tell him that I'm really pretty wonderful and fascinating and talented with a beautiful soul (among other things), and not so difficult at all, once you manage to get through the gates in all my walls.

Tell him that I'm really not all that tiresome or resistant to company or violent or vitriolic towards those whom I love, and that the correct solution when I'm raging and falling apart is simply to hold onto me fearlessly and doggedly while I change like the legend into bird, fish, lion, wolf, bull, serpent, ice, fire, no matter what monstrous force or creature for a brief explosive moment, until I eventually morph back into the prince that I truly am.

Tell him that all I really need is not so much to be completely understood as completely loved.

"If you see him, say hi."

r

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