The Run In.

The other morning I happened to stop by my local Dunkin Donuts for a wake up wrap (don’t judge, I like a good wake up wrap and I had no food in the house!).  I was happy, jaunty even… strolling in with my new-to-me skinny cords, wavy hair and fresh from vacay glow when I took notice of the tall dude at the end of the line.

My eyes narrowed. Is that….???

I did a double take and looked away.. there’s no way that’s Southern Boy*.  I took in his appearance, the work boots, the way he stood. He was wearing a hat.

Crap.. this is directly around the corner from his work. Double crap, he’s starting to look around.

I look away nervously and do a quick self-assessment. Please don’t say anything to me.  

I feel awkward.  Really awkward.  Things had ended weird and I do NOT want to make any contact. AT ALL.

He orders.  I hear his voice.  Oh it’s definitely him and also, not as healthy as you made yourself out to be with the 2 Boston Cremes buddy.

He pays and before he can move away from the register, “Can I help you, Mam?”

I walk up quickly, swing my hair to the right (to cover my face, I guess.) and place my order.  Please don’t talk to me!

He turns and looks at me, I can feel it.

I look straight at the cashier, smile and pay for my order.

Before I can walk to the end of the counter to pick up my wrap, he’s gone.

I sigh with relief. Maybe he felt awkward as well.

 

 

*I owe you the explaination of what happened with Southern Boy.. it’s coming but as my ego was a little bruised with that one, it’s taken longer than expected to write.  I’ll link it up soon.

 

 

 

 

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