So I have been meeting a lot of nice foreigners at work lately.This week I met my crush, a guy from Canada and someone from France. It started in that order of importance. Funny how things change.
I was beyond excited about my crush arriving. The day of his arrival, I went to work in a smart pony tail, wearing my pearl earrings. I never wear earrings anywhere unless I absolutely have to. I love them but my ear lobes are not used to being..is pressed the correct word? so they just go red after a while. He immediately recognized me and shot me a “Good to see you again”. Sigh of relief! He did remember me! Immense happpeeeness!
I checked him in from his room and was looking forward to a nice chat with him in private. Until for some reason my boss decided that it was absolutely necessary for him to accompany me even though I am perfectly capable of checking in someone on my own. No body asked him to be the third wheel.
I admired Carl (his name is somewhat similar. I am not using his real name out of fear that he’ll stumble upon this article) being so appreciative of the bouquet I gave him, even though they were just ordinary red roses bundled together and appreciative of the room, although it wasn’t even one of our best rooms. (I’m not surprised though. Most foreigners are very kind and appreciative as compared to the complaining and whining locals we get). And when I showed him where to sign, he leaned and whispered into my ear “Are you going to make me good press?”. That was so sexy.
But since he’s a VIP who was on a business trip, he was exceptionally busy. And every time he saw me, he was very good-natured about it and gave me a wink. But that was that. Not enough. Pity how in my mind everything had gone smoothly and we had already exchanged numbers and become the best of friends.
Then I met K. McDonald, who was in no way related to McDonalds. Average height guy with small but nice blue eyes. His hair was short at the back but from the front they were up-lifted, like every other guy you see nowadays. I checked him in and he seemed really nice too. I told him he could get alcohol from 9:30 a.m till 21:30 and he looked at me and joked ” Whaaat? No champagne at 8:30 in the morning?!!“. We had a nice little chat the other evening. I asked him about Vancouver since I might be shifting there in the near future. Turns out, it isn’t as bad as I thought. The weather is bearable and there are tons of things you could do while you were there. Seems like StepDad left out some details..
And then I met this simple, cute French guy who couldn’t understand why I had given his colleague a suite but not him. Even though he was paying a few grand more. There wasn’t one available and when I told him that he pretended to stab himself with a knife and we all laughed at him. Goofy, I thought. He looked goofy but in a good way, with his tall, lean figure and dark brown hair with small curls. When I asked him “Vous voudrais du cafe, du the?” his expression read “Did I hear that right? Does she speak French?”
“Vous parlez francais?”
“Oui, un peu“.
These were the only French words exchanged between us during his three day stay. He never replied to my “Bonsoir” or “Ca va?” and I’m beginning to think that Bonsoir is a cursed word since he is the second person not to reply to it, the first being my G.M.
Every day, he came in from work and stopped by. Unlike the others, he actually searched for me. Maybe it wasn’t intentional. But in my mind it was. And the day before his check out, he said
“I wanted to ask you..”
“But you don’t know..”
” My answer is yes.” this time with a smile.
He responded with an adorable laugh and his cheeks going red.
So I came home and I felt wretched that I didn’t say good bye to him. And then it clicked: The person I was most excited to see had been too busy to talk to me. Of course, he wasn’t at fault, I wasn’t just that important to him. And the person who was just a nobody to me, had proved to be the only one who always stopped by for a chat, no matter how busy or tiring his day had been.
And then something else hit me: He usually stayed with our competitors and the only reason he had only come here because they were full. And then I had a really bad feeling that I would never get to see him again.
Then I facebook-stalked him.
Only, I don’t usually add everyone I stalk. I’m not much of a stalker really. I just stalk once and the forgetaboutit. But that evening I read something about being bold and making a move and I got in my what’s-the-worst-that-can-happen mood. So I rolled up my sleeves and clicked “Send Friend Request”.
As if the thought of me not getting to see him wasn’t disappointing enough, by clicking on that stupid green button I have made absolutely sure that he thinks of me as a stalker and a super weird person. Whatever chances he had of returning to us have been reduced to ZERO.
Thank you, motivational article.