Monday, December 20, 2010

Mr. Whatever You Like

Not to long ago a good friend of mine was having a birthday dinner at a local trendy spot. This restaurant and lounge was where all the young hipster crowd hung out on the weekends. There were a couple good looking men there that night. I was making eyes with this cutie a few tables over that looked like he could be Harry Belafonte’s grandson. Yum. Most of the people had arrived at our table and we all were laughing and having a great time when I looked up and saw this man that was a Tyson Beckford look-a-like.  Beyonce’s Video Phone immediately started playing in my head. “Baby you doin' somethin' right. You just cancelled every otha man here”

He was so fresh and clean looking like he just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad. I had to remember to speak when the introductions were made and he grabbed my hand to shake it. I gave him eye contact, kept it mysterious yet friendly so I wouldn’t come off as too bourgeois or as a b*tch. He was seating directly across from me so we made eye contact a few times but no words were spoken between us except for ‘hello” and “my name is”.

After dinner we all headed upstairs to the lounge for drinks and cake. I made sure to make my way around our booth so I could talk to everyone. This man and I never were in the same circle at the same time. When I said my goodbyes he was no where to be found. I shook it off and figured that I’d see him again because we had so many friends in common but at the same time I wondered why I hadn’t met him before. I was lost in my own thoughts and checking my Blackberry as I made my way down the stairs.

“Whoa!” He put his hands on my hips to stop me from running into him or falling over.

“Oooh sorry” I say and look up at him slightly embarrassed.
We’re on the same step and he’s taller than I am in my 4” heels. Nice

“No problem lady. You leaving?” he asked

“Yeah church in the morning,” I said, “8am service”
His hands are still on me but now have moved up to my waist.

“Okay, that’s wassup” he says as he licks his lips and keeps eye contact.
Slight swoon

“I’m sorry we didn’t really get a chance to talk but I hope to see you again”

Being coy I said “We’ll see” and looked down between us as if to say please remove your hands from my waist sir. He let go, slowly.

“Yeah mos def” he says to my back as I sauntered out of the restaurant.

The whole ride home I thought about him. His Burberry London cologne lingered my nose long after I walked out of the restaurant. I definitely hoped to see him again.

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