Wednesday, June 11, 2014

The Lumberjack Horticulturist

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Have you ever locked eyes with a guy, maybe a smile is shared and then a strange feeling comes over you. The feeling that only comes to a person when they have stopped breathing. Not the hold your breath kind of stopped breathing, the kind that comes when the air is knocked out of you by something hitting your chest at top speed. Like one of those anvils from Wile E. Coyote.   In an instant you believe you could quite possibly die from this weight that has blindsided you.

This light-speed occurrence has happened a minuscule amount of times in my life. This is not to say that I have not fallen head-over-heals in love, yes I have. To quote John Green's new movie, The Fault in Our Stars,  you fall in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once, then get awaken at 3AM and sharply asked to taken the F*cking dog out. Well, John Green's quote goes something like that.

I was at Cherry Creek Mall early one January morning. I was there early because I had to deposit a check into the ATM because my bank for some satanic reason doesn't have a single branch in the state. Just ATMs. As I stood at the ATM I started to think about the kind of people who call these machines, ATM machines. As in Automated Teller Machine machines.  I decided right then that I hated those people. As I made my way to the mall exit, sporting my dirtiest of dirty sweats; I wondered if these people also use a PIN number in the ATM machine. As this was running through my mind, I saw a blur of beard and flannel move to my right. That is when I saw him.

He was sporting a real flannel shirt. Red on black. His beard was the perfect length between manly and hipster. He wore glasses. All these personal aspects highlighted the dead Kalanchoe blossfeldiana in his hand.  I knew it was a Kalanchoe because as I teenager I had a job watering plants in a greenhouse and I killed many standard houseplants.  This led me to believe he may have been the mall's Horticulturist.  Standing there before him, the early morning mall florescent lighting reflexed the gravy stains in my shirt. I was in love. Deeply, deeply in love. I croaked out something like, "What? That Kalanchoe is dead to you?" He smiled and said in equal jest, "Do you want it?"  Do I want it.... yes! I wanted it all, I wanted him. Every fiber of his lumberjacky shirt. Every hair on his face. Yes, I wanted him. Instead, I kept walking.... and now I think of him often. 

8 comments:

anne marie in philly said...

yep...this has happened to me once. the person that took my breath away is now deceased. but I sometimes wonder "what if"...

Jim said...

That was my first partner! I would see him from a distance when shopping when he walked away I would just glance at him and that split second before I recognized that it was him, my heart skipped a beat! The beat more rapidly when I realized it was him... and that I was going home with him too!

Pac said...

That strange feeling often comes over me after being led to contemplate the meaning of life as it relates to such things as personal identification number numbers for automated teller machine machines. And gravy stains.

Kelly Stern said...

Yup, it happened to me about 12 years ago, now I am married to the sucker (take that how ever you want). LOL!

Anonymous said...

Doesn't Fuzzy find posts like this a bit disconcerting?

Stevie B said...

Fuzzy does not read my blog due to the fact that this not a fan of bad writing and bad grammar. He also has his own stuff going.

cb said...

Yeah, this happens to me too. I keep waiting for the day my feelings will be returned.

Erik Rubright said...

The big question is, almost 3 months later, have you seen him again?