I would like to pretend that it was the universe preparing me for my chance (albeit brief) meeting with CK, but the truth is, I overslept. And being too late and too lazy to iron anything, I threw on a cute dress.
And because my extra dorky glasses didn’t go with my cute dress, I put in my contacts. Because it was Thursday, I grabbed my make-up bag as I knew the odds were good that someone would want to do happy hour.
It came as no shock that that someone was Marie.
So there we were, sitting at a local wine bar, enjoying a very generous happy hour special when CK walked in.
Literally my breath caught.
Marie (who was getting up to use the lady's room) asked me what was wrong.
"Nothing. I think I know that guy." Now of course I knew it was him. But I thought maybe my eyesight or the three glasses of wine I drank were playing tricks on me.
She turned and looked where CK was standing. "Ding dong. I hope so." (Marie is part of the "you're not really going to be single for the rest of your life tribe.")
Then she walked away.
I watched as he scanned the bar for someone, tried (without looking too desperate) to catch his eye so I could wave, all the while secretly holding out hope that it was me he was looking for (despite not having checked-in to the bar on Facebook). He eventually stopped looking, never made eye contact and took a seat facing the door (and away from me).
When she returned she asked, “Well?”
“I do know him. It’s CK.” And I took a deep breath, ready to explain what that meant.
Marie turned in her chair, “that’s the one?”
I was racking my brain for how she would know him, then I wondered if she was thinking of this blog and confusing CK with The One. I started to respond, but she turned back in her chair.
“The CK? The reason it takes you 45 minutes to get ready to meet for a cup of coffee on Saturday morning because, as you put it, 'what if C-K- is there?'?”
I guess I had mentioned him before. “That’s the one.”
“I guess it is a good thing you didn’t wear your glasses today, huh?”
“Are you going to say ‘hi’ to him?”
“Of course.” I knew even as I said it, it was a lie.
CK’s date finally showed up and Marie and I finally called it a night. As we walked by him, I didn’t say hello (it felt weird interrupting his date) but Marie did trip over his foot and I apologized for her while pretending not to know who he was.
I mean, it wouldn’t be a CK story if I didn’t make a little bit of an ass out of myself. At least this time I was a well-dressed, mostly sober ass.