I knew it was coming...
The day of the Saddle the clerk at the thrift shop saw the Italian girl laughing behind me (she didn't get the saddle, and I daren't explain...), asked, innocently, if she was my girlfriend...
I knew where this was going, answered no, a friend from work, new immigrant, merely showing her about the city, in Italy they don't do used...
The next time I popped in the clerks behind the counter all ignored me...looked away, but there was a page for **** over the intercom, and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach...
...running into other of the clerks, in the aisles, they all smile and are extra friendly, stop me to chat about nonsense, I know where this is going...
...I really should just get out, but at the moment it's my favorite thrift shop...
...She finds me, approaches, confirms the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, she's flustered, red, trembling, a business card with her name and phone number, she'd like to go for coffee...
She's not my thing. Lovely, not for me. I know this. She should as well, really, but she's out on a limb here, all her friends are behind her, cheering for her, rooting her on, anything less than a success would be murder...
"I'd love to...if it wasn't you it would have been me...I'll call you...we'll set up a date..."...
I worry, needlessly, about the gentle letdown, don't want to lose a favorite hangout, treasure spot, have to be delicate, but I take solace in the fact that as with every other unsolicited date (and a few I actually wanted...) all I have to do is Just Be Myself, and they'll understand...