Chick-Fil-A is a great way to pick up material to write about.
This night was going to be no exception.
At a booth for a few moments by myself and two young twenty somethings, boy and girl sit in the next booth.
They sat on the same side of the booth, facing me, next to each other.
My spidey senses started tingling and I thought this may have potential.
It’s not eavesdropping if they are talking at a decibel level that I can hear them without trying.
They could not have been more than one.
They were served their meal.
They bowed their head and he led the prayer.
I like this kid.
They were talking and laughing as twenty year olds do and then it turned serious.
I heard her say, “You know I am dating somebody, right?”
The following back and forth ensued.
He: “Yes, I heard that.”
She: “He’s a great guy.”
He: “But is he me?”
She: “No stupid. Obviously he’s not you.”
He: “I mean, does he care for you as much as I do and always have?”
She: “He’s a great guy.”
He: “Yeah, you said that already.”
He: “Listen, if I were rich and you were mine, I would buy you so much stuff. Weird stuff. Like roses and things with your name on it. I would call you just to hear you say, ‘Good morning.’
“Then I would call you just to hear you say, ‘Good night.”
Back to me.
I am really liking this kid now, and I can tell he is about to go for it.
His friend, the girl, is just looking at him, with this look that say, “No one ever talks to me like this.”
He: “And if you and me, were a we, I would tell you how beautiful you were in thirteen different ways. I can’t draw, but I would learn. And when I did, I would draw pictures of you until I got so good
that it looked so beautiful, it would be sold as a masterpiece, and then I would be rich, and I could then buy you all kind of stuff, weird stuff like roses.”
He: “I am sure he is a great guy. But great guys can find great girls. I don’t want any ole great girl…”
He: “I want you. I always have. Ever since you walked into 10th grade homeroom, before I even knew your name.”
My check came and it was time to leave.
I got up, stood next to their table, looked at him, then looked at her and said, hoping they would not find me intrusive or weird and said, “This guy is in love with you. If you can’t hear that in his voice and see that in his eyes, you are going to be very sad, later in life, and you still remember this conversation with him, and you know that wherever he is, he is still in love with you. If I had to guess, I would say, you will be the last girl he ever loves on this earth.”
With that I walked out, and before I could even get to my car, I was writing this entry in my head.
That kid reminded me so much of me.