Saturday, March 25, 2006

Whither Single?

I am hopeless.

Out and about today, my hair in all its post-JD glory, looking very blonde and sassy and slightly mussy rock star, I popped by Barnes & Noble for a book I meant to buy yesterday, and then happened to spy "In Cold Blood," newly released in trade paperback to piggyback on the success of "Capote," and which I've always meant to read, and which I likely have, but in a box in my basement that I frankly have no desire to open. What if there's a spider or a centipede inside? I'd rather spend the $10.

Anyway, I get in line to pay for my books but there is no line, so up to a register I go, member card in hand. Cashier Man doesn't have to make his spiel. Instead, he can launch right into his comments about "In Cold Blood," and how copies are flying off the shelves and Capote could be catty (hello, he was gay - catty is what gay men do) and how isn't it amazing that Harper Lee was his research assistant and that Dill in "To Kill a Mockingbird" was a roman a clef, based on Capote as a boy. Really? I truly never knew that. Interesting.

Transaction completed, we said goodbye and I made my way outside. Walking to my car, a man caught up to me and said, "He likes you."

I turned to him. "Sorry?"

He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "He likes you."

Oh. I said, "I think he likes talking about books."

"You missed it," the guy said, overshooting his car and doubling back.

I smiled to myself. When I got in my car, I laughed out loud. Well, of course I missed it. I am the world's biggest idiot when it comes to recognizing flirting. Honestly. Unless the guy is spelling out his interest with semaphore flags or neon signage, I simply have no clue.

But I must say, with the newly JDd hair, I've got it goin' on.


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