(Hey, where’s mine?)
… and daydreaming about my momentous first encounter with Stella, that particular moment when she raced away to avoid throwing herself at my feet…
(Uh, Robert… that’s not exactly how it went. I was there; you tripped over and fell at her feet. Oh, what’s the point?)
"Excuse me. Would you pass the sugar, please?" a girl's voice asked, her tone soft and pleasant.
(!?!?!?)
… I imagined Stella and I alone, hands entwined…
“Pass the sugar, please.” The same girl’s voice, but not quite as soft and pleasant as before.
… whispering sweet nothings to each other, Stella telling me that I was the man of her dreams, of her life…
“The sugar!” Now she sounded decidedly impatient.
(WAKE UP! HELLO! ROOOOBEEEERT! IT'S HER!)
Do you, Stella, take Robert to be your lawful wedded husband? My God, I could almost see it, feel it!
(I bit him. I felt awful doing it, but I had no choice. He quickly forgot the pain anyway)
“Ouch!” Lola bit me. I couldn't believe it. The nicest dog in the world bit me. Why? “My dog just bit me,” I said to Stella.
"Good for him! Please pass the sugar," she repeated.
"Yes, of course."
Stella?!
(Welcome back, pal!)
STELLA! Talking to me! Stella and I. Side by side. In the café! Bonding! I just stood there, the sugar bowl in hand, and gaped at her.
"Thank you," she said, reaching for the sugar.
A brief tug-of-war ensued, as I stubbornly hung on to the bowl.
(He didn't know he was still holding it. Look, he was hopelessly in love, so think kindly of him)
My heart soared.
(Let go of the sugar bowl!)
"Let go of the sugar bowl," Stella growled through clenched teeth.
"Yes," I replied, grinning from ear to ear.
(He had no idea what she was talking about)
"The sugar!" she shouted.
"Yes!" I shouted back. "Two, please!" I was in seventh heaven, her every word poetry to my ears. I had stopped taking sugar years ago, but if Stella wanted me to take sugar, I’d take sugar with my cappuccino or whatever else she wanted me to take sugar with. She was talking to me. Who knew where this might lead?
(I'll tell you where it WILL lead if you don't LET GO OF THE SUGAR BOWL!)
I pictured us strolling out of there hand in hand.
(The incurable optimist - with the sugar bowl between them)
(He didn't know he was still holding it. Look, he was hopelessly in love, so think kindly of him)
My heart soared.
(Let go of the sugar bowl!)
"Let go of the sugar bowl," Stella growled through clenched teeth.
"Yes," I replied, grinning from ear to ear.
(He had no idea what she was talking about)
"The sugar!" she shouted.
"Yes!" I shouted back. "Two, please!" I was in seventh heaven, her every word poetry to my ears. I had stopped taking sugar years ago, but if Stella wanted me to take sugar, I’d take sugar with my cappuccino or whatever else she wanted me to take sugar with. She was talking to me. Who knew where this might lead?
(I'll tell you where it WILL lead if you don't LET GO OF THE SUGAR BOWL!)
I pictured us strolling out of there hand in hand.
(The incurable optimist - with the sugar bowl between them)
She was mine.
(Che sarà, sarà, whatever will be, will be... But I still didn't get a cornetto!)
☺ ☺ ☺ ☺ ☺
1 comment:
looking forward to the next one!
very enjoyable scene, and one I can picture in an italian cafe. I like the way Stella is seen as this Goddess trying to deal with this man she seems to keep bumping into.
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