Meeting People

I met a man today, and I'm not really sure within myself if it is better if I know people's names or if I do not. The sense of mystery and anonymity is wonderful, but so is picking apart every bit of information you have acquired, and I happen to like names. I was in a flustered dream-like state, running around 24th street like an idiot, not caring too much, because it was 24th. If I hadn't forgotten that six month old paycheck in the first place, I wouldn't have even been there, but I am looking around the streets, up 24th and down Castro. At the corner is a man, not a boy, just a very average guy, but more of a man. He had light brown hair, with a short beard of the same color, and I noticed first his red sweater, then dark messenger bag. I was a bit embarrassed at how foolish I looked, and felt a bit uncomfortable with the eye contact that we accidentally made. I blamed myself for the situation and how weird it was, but waited for him to walk away, as I panned the streets for a silver car. The next time our eyes grazed, he was turned around now, facing where I had stopped to stand. I wanted this all to go away, assuming he either was confused by my looking, or was wanting to know directions or the like. I decided to really look this time, and before I noticed I was smiling, I looked to see the most friendly and attractive smile I could recall. My next thought was if he was gay, and now clearly not wanting directions, why is he wanting to talk to me. I avoided this all until he spoke to say hi, I returned the greeting, clearly overtly humiliated, and still scoping every car and street in, I am sure, a strange manner. He was still at the crosswalk, so handsome and put together, ready to go, but he did not walk. The moment was more drawn out than it was, our smiles also, and I just stood then in that moment, ready for him to take off. He glances at my light, and still smiling spoke softly but clear that he was not trying to hold me up, to take my light if I wanted to walk the adjacent crossing, I really smiled now because there was no way to explain I had nowhere really to go. I told him that I wasn't planning to, I'm actually just waiting for a ride, I said looking at every car and street. No one has ever looked more interested in something, and the moment just sucked in me, with his feminine voice and careful hair. I never wanted his smile to end, but knew I had just seconds remaining. He seemed more perplexed by it all than I was, did he ask how or what I was doing? I don't know. I also forget why, but we said our goodbyes, slow and honest, and he had his light. I recall sort of spinning around, running towards the bank still on 24th, still stifling an embarrassed smile.I then ran fast on Castro, into the silver car. I felt so elated, still flustered, and then, I felt that forlorn, familiar feeling that I will never see him again.




I think I liked him because he did not remind me of anyone.