Sunday, April 19, 2009

The Redheaded Girl Next Door (And Her Lack of Proximity to Me)

I'm a complete and utter fool.

I rise every morning and apply well worn boots of fear. If courage is applied to my skin, it curls and peels away. I'd vomit up a portion of my soul if even the thought of taking a risk entered my mind.

Today was "Products Day" when I venture to one of the local discount chains to acquire items that seem to cost so much more when you purchase them at the grocery store.

Or so I believe.

I used to despise Rite-Aid because it seemed like every time I entered, management had checked for a pulse and the ability to say, "We don't got that no more" as the application process for employment.

But that has seemed to improve. I can only theorize that the really old people who predominantly shop there put up a giant stink that seeped itself into the upper echelon of the Rite-Aid management corps and things changed.

Yes, apparently I have plenty of time to ponder the pecking order at the local discount branch.

Lucky me.

I was shuffling through the aisle that cuts through all the other aisles in a perpendicular fashion, and there she was in the beach furniture aisle. I caught a glimpse of wispy red hair tied up in what I like to call the "Teddy Bear Look." Incredibly milky skin adorned by a cute tank top and khaki shorts.

But I couldn't see her face.

I made my way around the aisle she was browsing and pretended to be glancing at the same items. She had massively bright eyes and before I knew it, she had caught me glancing at her.

She smiled and held my glance for half past a moment.

As most moronic guys do, I suddenly looked away. I wasn't farther than six feet from her.

And she caught me again. Staring. And she continued to smile.


"Wait a minute, where the fuck are you going? Huh? The toothpaste aisle? That can wait. You had your chance and you blew it. What the hell is wrong with you?"

And that's the Question of the Night.

What stopped me from taking a frickin' chance? Why didn't I possess the reservoir of courage necessary to introduce myself? And why does this keep happening over and over and over again lately?

After picking out all my crappy items that really had no intrinsic value compared to her smile, I could hear her moving her cart to the checkout lane.

"I'm sorry, that check stand is closed. Its my fault, I forgot to turn off the light."

She giggled gently and responded, "That's ok. I just like driving the cart around. It's fun."

Beautiful, bright-eyed and with a goofy sense of humor? Please, just leave all this stuff behind and lets run away together right now.

There was a rather Stringy Haired Lady browsing through her coupon stash who was a buffer between me and Girl Next Door in the checkout aisle. You could see her whole body change when she realized she had forgotten one of the items. She zipped away and it was just me and her, two feet of fate between us.

Women have this amazing sense when they're being stared at (in my case of course, admired) and she looked up almost surprised that it was me again and smiled.

I returned the favor but THAT'S ALL I DID.

I'm not a grotesque looking guy. Odd looking, but not disgusting. I'm not beefy or tall, but given the chance I can be charismatic and hilarious. Pretty successful in my career too. I work pretty hard and take care of all my responsibilities. I like to believe I have the possibility to be A Catch.

But with all that going for me, I still didn't feel I had the necessary traits to open a conversation and see if she was as sweet as she seemed.

I had one last chance in the parking lot, but something moved me to get to my truck as quickly as possible and exit the parking lot before she became tired of smiling at me and shunned me completely.

Something is truly wrong with me outside of all my health concerns and it disturbs me daily.

Tonight, wherever you happen to be Redheaded Girl Next Door, I hope you're happy.

Because of your presence in the Rite-Aid today, an electricity flowed through my system that I haven't felt in quite some time.

But do me a favor, would you? Stop haunting me. I can't get you out of my mind.

Since that fateful fifteen minutes, I have made a promise to myself. And you'd be surprised how often I keep said promises.

The next woman I meet that strikes me like you did, is going to meet Stacy Without An E.

Whether she likes it or not.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so glad you're writing again and when you get the gumption to greet the next beauty in your path she'll be a lucky woman.