Crazy Emma

It would have been the easiest thing, to turn and walk back to my station, but once I saw him, it would have taken a nuclear blast to move me from my spot. He was beautiful. As he laughed and talked with his three friends, his smile had me mesmerized. I can’t tell you if everyone thought he was as gorgeous as I did —even my friends say I have odd taste in men— but I know that when I saw him, my heart sped up and I swear there was a glow around him.
My friends will also tell you that I don’t believe in love, and especially love at first sight. I learned at a young age that love is nothing more than a temporary reaction to someone you think you connect with on some weird level. It doesn’t last, and it always ends with someone being miserable and someone else who could give a shit. So why did this stranger suddenly have me so captivated? Why couldn’t I move my feet from the spot where my feet were now glued to the floor? I don’t know, but move them I did, and what happened next is even more strange; if I live forever, I’m sure I’ll never be able to explain it.
He looked at me, and I’m telling you, the elasticity in my knees doubled, whatever, and it was all I could do not to fall on my ass. When his eyes found mine, it was as if a high voltage shock surged through me, forcing me to do whatever was necessary to meet this man; hell, touch this man. If my brain worked as quickly all the time as it did in that instant, I can tell you, I sure as hell wouldn’t be waiting tables for a living.
I opened my mouth wide and brought my hand to my cheek. “Oh my God,” I said, out loud, to this guy I didn’t know. “What are you doing here?” I feigned shock and surprise at seeing him. His eyebrows rose in confusion as I approached his table; his friends looked a little stunned too. Now, keep in mind that this all happened very quickly, but it felt like I, and everyone around me, was moving in slow motion. There was a small hesitation on his part, his lips closing to make words, then opening again, unsure of which ones he should use. To me, it seemed his lips opened again in hopes that I might lean over and kiss him, but thinking back on it now, my mind slightly clearer, I’m sure that wasn’t the case. He studied my face carefully, searching my eyes for something to spur his memory. When I was beside the table, he stood.
“I haven’t seen you for years!” It was as if I’d rehearsed my lines and my part for months. I threw my arms around him and squeezed him. He felt so solid beneath my embrace, and the scent of his musky cologne filled my senses. Graciously, he returned my hug.
“I know,” he played along. “It has been a while.”