Sunday, February 24, 2008

Jesus Mostly Likes You Kinda

This morning Ahmed, my beloved pookums, was at his Walgreens trying to get a little shaving cream and baby powder in an uncivilized world. He noticed a little old lady in a cantaloupe colored suit with a matching hat decorated in netting handing out folded pamphlets of some sort. A cluster of people knocked her pamphlets over in passing and he rushed to help her pick them up.

As he related this to me on the telephone (I was in line at Starbucks' drive-through because it's Sunday and we should all take time out to worship... erm) I was reminded powerfully of my first glance at him. This past week a few Divas and others had been discussing soul mates, so the notion was front and center in my mind.

Ahmed and I did a long dance online via email and chat before we met in person. I caved and agreed to get together with him at the Barnes and Noble, where we would check one another out before having something to eat and possibly seeing a movie if the stars were so inclined. The stars could have gone to a hot place in a hand-basket once I got a look at him. He knocked over a book display and when I bent over to help him pick them up we both locked gazes. Gold. His eyes were not brown, they were absurdly gold and had no business being that smoky right there in front of god and everyone in the discount hardcover aisle. And if his eyes were magnificently hammered in gold and smokier than Irish whiskey, his voice was positively scandalous.

"You're going to be trouble," I said, in a moment of complete defeat. I would only find out much later that he was moderately offended, convinced I meant something insulting. I suppose, in a way, I did. I was a goner and I knew it. I wasn't necessarily happy about it. Well, okay, I was a little happy about it. He sealed the deal when, after dinner at Legal Seafood and a movie, he asked permission to kiss me. I gave it. He kissed me. It was not bad. He took four steps away from me, spun around, and announced "I can do that better," which he did. It was... spectacular.

The rest is history. And his cantaloupe clad friend reminded me, for the umpteenth time this week, of that wonderful night. My mum insists I was floating when she saw me late that evening.

The little old lady at Walgreen's this morning was not after his manly person so much as his soul, in a manner of speaking. After thanking him for his help she asked if he'd "come to Jesus."

Ever the diplomat he informed her that he had great respect for Jesus. She could have dropped it, but Sister Eleanor was on a mission. "You gotta love Jesus, son. Do you love Jesus, young man?"

"I like him a lot but I'm not ready for a commitment, and I'm seeing someone else." said Mister Cheeky Pants. Good line, though.

I took a moment out of my daily ritual to remind him of the dangers of little old ladies in pastel suits. The ones with hats, I said, were the more slippery kind.

"She called me young man, though" he said, "I'm in my fifties. She kinda had me at 'young man.'"

After enjoying his misery just a bit longer, we bid our farewells on the phone in the customary manner.

"Love you, baby."

"Love you, too, Badjia, eat something, ok?"

"Yep. And baby?"


"You gotta love Jesus."

"Yeah, smart ass, if we're having a three way it's not going to be with Jesus."

"Filthy infidel."

"Nasty wench."

Say Amen, somebody!

3 comments ]:[ Add your comment:

Diana Castilleja said...

I just love these little peeks at romance, because you make them sound the way I want to write them.

Big J isn't quite that model, but he's a good one, and yeah, the night he said "I can see us, getting old together, in rocking chairs" I knew I was sunk. Hook, line and sinker. I think it was our third date.

Heck we only dated for two months before I asked him to marry me! He swears he would've asked, but why waste time. *wink*

Dana Belfry said...

Okay this was all really cute but you kind of had me at "legal seafood." Oh God, I miss good New England Clam Chowder. *drools*

gwenny said...

You guys are so damned cute.

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