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the ribbed dress Driving east with the rising sun in my eyes, hunger and sleep fought for control over my body. In the end hunger won as I pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store. Usually when I go to the store that early in the morning, there isn't much of a crowd. Then when there is one, it's mostly old people with everyone else at work, but today was different. For a few minutes, I got to steal a few looks at what for me was the ideal woman. As funny as it sounds, it was in the bakery department where I first saw her. In the corner of my eye, she moved past me and that was enough for me to take another look. She far too well dressed to be shopping for food. The simple but body hugging dress and chunky shoes were out of place in such a setting. As I lingered by the loaves of banana bread, I watched to see what she would put into her basket. While I stood there, I kept thinking to myself have I sunk this low that I am going to watch women while they shop for food. Then I told myself that I had a valid reason to be there. It wasn't as thought I went there to watch her. It wasn't my plan when I walked through the door, but when she moved down the aisle I knew thatI had to see her face just once. I had to know if the face went with the legs. Now if I were nearly as cheesy as my friend Dan, I would have walked up to her and asked her if she needed help carrying her basket or something just as stupid. Sometimes this works for him, but most of the time women just think that he is weird and quickly walk away. Dan is the same person who has asked a waitress if they divide the tips in a restaurant just so that he can have a few moments to talk with her. He tells them that he wants to make sure that all of the money goes to her and isn't split amongst the rest of the shift. He did this same routine at three different restaurants when I was in California with him. So I make my way past her trying to think of some way to get her to face me without being too obvious. Then maybe sensing why I was there, she did turn and I wasn't disappointed. No eye contact was made, but my curiosity or lust was satisfied. I am sure that all of this makes sound as though I were twelve and peeking through a fence to see the girl next door in her swimsuit, but I just had to see her face. What makes it even more sad was that she was the highlight of my day and I didn't even speak to her. Maybe that made it better. She was still an unknown to me. She could be a fantasy. She was unreal and real at the same time.
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