That Man from the 3rd floor

A few months ago one of my best friends mandated that I “get serious” about dating.

To be honest, sometime in my teens, my grand-mother scared the marriage right out of me. It was a balmy summer day, she was at the stove cooking something delicious and I was sulking at the old wooden table.

“You know DF, the guy you agree to marry is the most important decision you will ever make. It will change your life for ever. You remember that and be mighty careful who you agree to marry.”

No problem.

Single.

Crisis averted.

Friends have done their best to persuade me that at least putting some effort into being available to meet someone that will change my mind, is worth my while. And spending my weekends traipsing here and there, would be better done with a male mate that wasn’t just a best-friend from some past, failed relationship.

As a pouty 20-something, that was a great strategy and I am still on the fence if it’s still a fool-proof strategy as a 30-something but open to entertaining suggestions.

Here I am, being open minded, taking advice from the one’s who have happily passed from single-dom into dual-dom. It can’t be all that bad, they are still happy.

So when a friend of mine gleefully described a fellow neighbour she met in my elevator, I agreed to keep an eye out.

“Come on DF, what, you’re going to sit here and waste away counting cars?!”

I argued back, “It’s much too close, honestly, there is hardly a floor separating us and how do you exactly propose I bump into him? Take up residence in the elevator?”

“No silly, just keep your eye open for him and talk to him when you see him.”

Ok. Fine

Within a week I magically bumped into this creature she accurately described.

He was tall, handsome and yes, he lived on the 3rd Floor.

Did I talk to him?

Not really.

With my mouth full of apple, I opted for grunting and hand gestures while he explained to me how “tired” he was from his “many” late nights watching “professional sports”. Finishing off with a list of the teams he was cheering for.

I only managed a “Have a nice night” once his back was turned and I was sure my apple pieces were safe!

I think I made her proud 🙂

2 thoughts on “That Man from the 3rd floor

    1. Haha, funny you ask, I asked her the same thing – since I seem to have a tough time recognizing “faces” and a much easier time recognizing people by their torso’s and cars, I also felt that those two things would have been more relevant to me LOL!

      Like

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