I remember the first time I saw this man. This strong man, who walked in the coffee shop knowing that he had a mission. Knowing that he was someone. Not letting the long line deter him from his thoughts. Standing there, brooding at the coffee menu as if it were a great philosophy to figure out.

I had a great view of him from the seat I was in. not right in his face, but close enough to revel in his beauty. His square jaw with a purposeful five o’ clock shadow. His short dark hair that looked recently tossed about. And his brown eyes, that seemed soft in their darkness.

Yes, he was something to behold.

And, his voice—calm, collected, with an air of ego and boldness. He ordered a regular coffee, shot of expresso. I watched as he walked over the counter to collect his long thought out order. A walk that was still brimming over with confidence and strength.

Why in the hell am I focusing so much on this man? I mean, just an ordinary, usually dull day. Sitting her moments ago typing away at a term paper that would never end. Staring at the characters in an out. Becoming distracted by any and everything that made its way into my visual environment.

Then, him. Then, this god of man strolls in.

and, then me. Studying the shit out his every move. Making grand sweeping ideas about his swagger, his features.

He picked up his coffee. Took a sip, realized it wasn’t wuite what he wanted. And in the instance, his face crinkled up in thought as to what he could add to give it the flavor he longed for. Turning to me, but really passed me to the condiment bar behind me, he walks over.

And, I’m pulsing. My heart, that is. Say something. Put your head down in embarrassment from dissecting his coffee break. Look into his eyes. So many options, so little time.

The thoughts trapped for too long and he’s behind me. Not a glance my way, or a gesture in my direction. Nothing but the smell of his cologne still lingering in the leftover air. Nothing but a missed opportunity dangling just outside my reach.

“Sir, your brifcase,” comes a loud voice taking me out of my fantasy. He had a brifcase. Huh! I didn’t even notice. Too busy gazing at his face I guess.

I turned to see that he hadn’t heard the guy. Which was odd, as the barrista was quite loud, and I’m sure everyone in the place heard.

Say something, tell him the guyw as talking to him. Speak up for crying out loud.

“hey, I think you’re leaving your briefcase.” Said a soft voice from the side of me. Damn it! Another missed opportunity.

“what, huh,” he turned to face the woman who had brought his error to his attention. The sound of his voice again took me. It was that profound bold, almost bass in his voice that pretty much had me mentally drooling.

“the barrista was telling you that you’re leaving your briefcase by the counter.” She was talking to him again. How dare she steal my only opportunity to say something. How dare she be more bold than i. What a bitch!!

He tilted his head a bit, now fully reconciling what the women said and the site of his briefcase near the counter. And in his movement towards the counter, turned to the ‘other’ women: “Thanks, I didn’t even hear anyone talking to me.”

“Oh, I could tell,” she said with a smile. He smiled back at her. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

“yeah, I get all wrapped up in my thoughts,” he said walking back to her. “I’m Ian, by the way.” He introduced himself to that woman, and held out his hand.

She chuckled slighty, “already taken cutie.” And in my mind a triumphant cheer, a sub conscious backflip.

He was taken aback by her frankness, but then keeping to his calm composure. “Just introducing myself, nothing more.” Ha, bitch, thought you could unsettle him.

And with another acknowledgement of ‘the woman’s’ courtesy, walked away from her table, moving towards me again. This time, I’d be in the moment, not stuck in my thoughts.

Timing it just right, I turned to catch his gaze and turned my eyes upward to his. His stride slowing, but still in step, nodded with a smile at me. And me, a quick, but audible, “Hello.”

“Hi,” he said, not missing a step, and continuing on his journey to pick up his briefcase. His smile was intoxicating. The second time I had the pleasure of witnessing its grandeur. This time it had me a little too strongly in it’s grasp. But, the moment too quick for me to say more. He was at the counter by the time I gathered myself enough to realize it.

But, in an act of boldness—really, more of an act of desperation—I said, “Bye.” What hell was I doing?

He turned, looked in my direction, “Oh, bye.” And with a wave, he walked out of the door.