I was a hot dog vendor (remember those days?).
I didn’t think too highly of my appearance at that point in time, because I was in the midst of weight-loss mission #2 (#3? I can’t recall now…).
Short-haired and not enjoying the heat coming in through the back of the hot dog stand. We had the shades on but that didn’t help. I was alone at the cart that day, standing in front of Juicy Couture close to Union Square (San Francisco).
He approached me in a clouded vision. I looked up and was face to face with a man I had never met before, but he was quite attractive to me. Tall, wavy brown hair, surfer-type. He spoke his words with a smirk as he uttered his order in a unique accent. A European?
We exchanged our sheepish smiles and then he walked off to wherever he was going. I figured I wouldn’t see him again. That cart rarely got return customers, and he looked like a tourist to me.
But then he showed up again the next day, again by surprise. Shy smiles exchanged once again. I remember gushing to a visiting friend that I hoped he was a local.
He visited the next day again, and he actually dropped me some tip money at the very end after we stared at each other intensely and smiled the same way.
Those moments brought my work mood up and I looked forward to seeing him again the following week.
Monday came, and no sign of him.
Tuesday came, and the same result.
He must have been a tourist after all.
Note: In case you’re wondering, oh curious reader, no, I am not pining for this mystery man anymore. An amusing few days of our mostly-silent flirting, but it made for a good tale.