Right Recipe

If I knew the right recipe to successfully make imaginations reality then what I'm about to say would either be a premonition or a recollection...depending on when I tell it. And if this was a premonition, then this is how I'd imagine things would go…

I'd say, "Instead of standing here before you, spewing pseudo game and belittling the significance of this moment, I'm going to tell you that the very first time I laid thoughts on you."

You, no less, would find yourself somewhere between intrigued, confused and apprehensive. I'd begin by telling you that the first time, I boarded the subway and took my usual place by the doors. You, sitting across from me, had your head down, engrossed in a book. I was typing away a blog idea on my phone. I glanced at you a few times…took note of your earth tone ensemble of greens and browns. I admired your natural coif in between sentences. I dug your jacket with the cool collar after every period typed. I must have got lost in it all because you looked up at me, maybe feeling my eyes burrowing into your head.

The second time, believe it or not, was that very same day. I was standing at the window table of the Pad Thai spot waiting for my order when you walked by with may or may not have been a female co-worker. The fact that you and I could possibly inhabit the same work radius drew a bit of childlike excitement.

The third time, was at a nightclub…on the Friday of that same week. The swagger and bravado that I managed to save up for my night out, was shelved when I realized it was you. The same you in front me of all week. I tried to make eye contact with you…figuring that the club lights would lessen the effect of your piercing eyes. But it wasn't to be.

The fourth time was weeks later. We walked in opposite directions on the same strip of sidewalk on the same side of the street right in front of Foot Action.

The fifth time was some time after that. Same dance, different location…passing Victoria's Secret. The fifth time would have been the last time but the sixth time made sure it wasn't. The sixth time seemed like a whirlwind. Imagine my surprise to see you in the seven days young fitness center residing in my place of employment. Imagine my nervousness to see you in the seven days young fitness center residing in my place of employment. After jumping from machine to treadmill to machine, I tried to answers questions I couldn't.

"Can I have your attention please? The Fitness Center will be closing in twenty minutes. Thank you."

I head to the stretch area only to find you there. Not feeling brash enough to approach you, I stretch on the opposite side. I sneak peaks in an attempt to find some evidence that you're not the same person only to find no definitive proof. I grab my bag and belongings from my locker and exit. Heading to the elevators, I turn around briefly and see you again... just yards behind me. The elevator doors open, I arrive first and hold the door. You enter last, thanking me. I tell you you're welcome, making this our first official interaction. I know, it's corny…but under these circumstances, I'll take it.

We exit the building, you ahead of me. You turn right at the corner and cross the street. I continue straight. We part ways.

The funny thing about it is, after I travelled about 2 blocks towards my destination, questioning the likelihood that you were a doppelganger with the present day mission of playing mind tricks, I never even attempted to turn around because I convinced myself with a great deal of success that you were probably across the street. And as silly as it may seem right now, it wasn't that far fetched when I walked down the platform only to see you standing there…waiting for the same train. I never looked directly at you once I was close enough for you to notice me. I did pull out my smartphone to make a note reminding myself to chronicle all events leading to now.

Four stops into the train ride and I'm picking up my gym bag preparing to exit at the next. I glance over at you. You're deep in a book again…reminiscent of my first thoughts. I managed to catch the cover of the book and noticed the word Dexter. This is too much. That's one of my favorite shows. I only found out last week that the show was based on a novel…and here you are reading it.

Doors open.

I'm not really sure what compelled me to, but I look over at you one last time. Already accepting that what I didn't comprehend before is now all too apparent to me. You're there. That's you. And here I am. You look up at me, smile and we both say goodnight.