The following tale is absolutely unfortunately true. ‘Tis the season to be jolly and I recently had a semi-merry experience that didn’t quite end with good tidings.
I was sitting at a table at Starbucks, nursing an Americano with an extra shot and reading a book on my iPad Mini (an early Christmas gift from my sweetie), awaiting the arrival of a friend. That’s when a Latina hottie walked in that caused me to set the iPad down and peer over my shades.
She looked to be in her 30s with long black hair, wearing dark business attire with shapely drumsticks that went all the way down to some stiletto heeled pumps. Hello. She sat down at a table close to mine with a drink and a sandwich, and I could almost feel the breeze from her batted eyelashes.
“Hello there,” she said, in that breathless Marilyn Monroe coo that goes in your ears and reverberates up and down your body.
I could tell she was feeling me. That part wasn’t amazing because women love me. One time I was at my sister-in-law Patty’s house party, dancing with Patty’s best friend, Marina. Marina was sauced and kept saying, “Patty, he’s so handsome.” And Patty said, “Don’t tell him that! His ego is big enough! Later on he’ll be saying, ‘All the women love big daddy!’ ”
I told Patty that was ridiculous and then maneuvered Marina in a way that she was looking over my shoulder and not at my face. I looked at Patty and mouthed the words, “All the women love big daddy.”
Look, I’m no looker, but I can be irresistibly charming.
I said hello to the woman at the next table and then went back to my book. But I could see she was still looking at me between nibbles on her sandwich.
Before you get the wrong idea, I’ve been with the same woman for 16 years and I’m not a player. Cathi is my queen and she’s the only woman for me. But I’m not dead. If other people want to flirt with me or drink in my charms, who am I to spoil their fun? I had my mojo working.
Finally, this woman couldn’t stand it anymore and stood and came over to my table extending a delicate, manicured hand, which I took in my manly paw. Perhaps she recognized me from my columns. Then a horrible thought crossed my mind: What if she thinks I’m my brother Tony?
“Hello, I’m Anna,” she breathed. She looked like she could’ve been a model.
“Hi. Jon.” My middle name is Jon and when I first went online in 1996, I used my middle name because if I told people I was “Kelvin from Fairfield,” it would’ve been pretty easy for them to find out who I was. I wanted anonymity. I met Cathi online as “Jon” and that’s what she calls me to this day. That’s what her friends call me. So nowadays when people ask me my name I sometimes don’t know which name to give them!
It occurred to me that I was going to have to nip this in the bud. I’d have to find some way to let this beautiful woman know that I was taken. She was free to look at all of this deliciousnss but she couldn’t touch. I had to let her down easy.
“I noticed you were reading,” she started.
Nice icebreaker. Maybe this meant that not only was she a gorgeous representation of the fairer sex, but that she possessed a curious intellect. So after I made it clear to her that I wasn’t on the market perhaps she and I could still have a great conversation about books we were reading. Who knows? I might make a new friend.
Who’s move was it? Mine or hers?
“I haven’t seen you in here before and I come here pretty often,” she smiled. I could feel a smile stretching across my own face.
“No, I don’t come here that often. Haven’t been here in a long while actually. Just taking a break from Christmas shopping,” I said and invited her to sit down.
“I’ll only be a minute. I was just thinking that if you like to read, you might be interested in reading this.”
And she reached into some bag and produced two thin booklets.
Are you kidding me? I went from Rico Suave to pathetic little girly man in an instant. Like Muddy Waters once said, I had my mojo workin’, but it just wasn’t workin’ on her. As Jehovah is my witness, I never saw it coming. Peace on Earth.
Kelvin Wade is the author of “Morsels” Vols. I and II and lives in Fairfield. Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org.