For my inspiration, my Tish...
Romeo, Romeo, where art thou Romeo? I thought I saw him in the library stacks. I accidentally brushed his hand with mine as I grabbed the dissertation on the ecology of Artemia monica in Mono lake that serendipity must have shelved there of all places. I thought it was fate when he spoke to me. Singing from his ever so kissable lips was a polite "excuse me". But not even a glance of acknowledgement. I waited, but finally walked away, puzzling over the mysteries of Mono lake and whether Artemia monica is a communicable disease. I decided it was best to busy myself before discretely reshelving the utterly disappointing book when he leaves.
Staring at my computer screen, I wondered when I would find him. Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for the "one". One can celebrate only so many 27th birthdays before one accepts that any "one" will do. Really, is that too much to ask for? Just one! It's is all I'm asking for. No more, no less. Okay, maybe even 9/10 or 1.1, I considered as I glanced up from my screen surreptitiously, on the look out for anyone. But there was only the ecologist with his ever so kissable lips and infuriatingly handsome and indifferent posture. Why are you just standing there! I had things I had to do, and spending any time in this part of the library was not one of them.
I don't understand it. I'm looking. I'm putting myself out there. I'm even multitasking. "Not very well," mocked the blank Word document. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard "Your computer is so cute...it's so little. I bet you can work anywhere with that!" It was just a beaming woman with well manicured nails, goatee and impeccable, darling dress. "Yeah! I've been watching you... I was going to say the same thing," the indifferent ecologist chimed in. It was just one of those times in which everything slows and your perception sharpens but your reaction sputters. All I could muster was "Yeah..." "Is your hair naturally red?" he asked. I nodded. "Wow... I don't think I've ever met an ecologist who looked so... wow!" As I struggled to take in what was happening, "I'm not an ecologist" escaped my mouth. "Oh, I thought you... I was watching you in the stacks.... I'm not an ecologist either." With a strangely knowing expression, the woman departed.
I finally turned to the indifferent ecologist and said "Did you notice that lady's goatee", grabbing my computer and phone and going outside. I had to call Tish, and, as I told her about the bearded lady, I watched the patrons come in and out, still looking for Romeo — anyone really. Just one, more or less even. Is that really so much to ask for?