If you don’t look, you might be surprised by what you see.
I met Rodrigo through friends. We were at a holiday party. Neither of us knew anyone, so we drifted slowly toward each other like an asteroid and a planet, which led to a silent impact of shared and embarrassed “hello’s”.
“How are you?” Rodrigo asked.
“Alone,” I answered sheepishly. “I don’t know anyone at the party.”
“You do now,” Rodrigo said. Continuing he said, “I’m Rodrigo, and you are?”
“I’m Harlan,”I said extending my hand.
Rodrigo’s graceful hand reached out to mine and shook hands, looking square into each other’s eyes.
“Peter said you’re a writer,” Rodrigo added withdrawing his hand.
“Peter? Who’s Peter?” I asked.
“Our host, silly,” Rodrigo laughed. “He’s over there under the mistletoe.”
“Ohhhh, that’s Peter? I asked. “I heard he was a doll! Maybe I should introduce myself to him,” adding quietly, “Under the mistletoe.”
“Don’t bother, Harlan,” he admitted.
“Did you try once?” I asked.
“Yes and it backfired horribly,” Rodrigo confessed.
“He’s straight,” I determined.
“God, no . . . he’s gay through and through,” Rodrigo chortled.
“Then he must’ve not found you attractive,” I surmised.
“God no . . . that was the problem, he found me attractive, but my kissing him under the mistletoe embarrassed him so much that he had a panic attack! Needless to say, we never kissed again.”
But that chance encounter led Rodrigo and I to a lovely dinner date, then a wonderful second date which lasted nine hours and spanned two mealtimes Rodrigo asks me to read to him on a nightly basis from my blog. He likes my writing, my style, my honesty.
One never knows what may happen after an embarrassing situation, In Rodrigo’s case it cost him some cheek.
And I gained a new amour.