Dear L,

I was talking to Nickles tonight, and she told me she wanted to talk about something that she couldn't talk with me about right then, so of course I asked if it was juicy and she said yes, and I asked if it was baout you and she said no. Well not to be deterred, I asked if she had spoken to you lately, and she said she had. I asked if I was mentioned and she said I was. Apparently you told her you felt guilty for hanging up on me, and that you didn't want to encourage me. Let me, at this time, assure you that I can encourage myself quite well without any help from you. I can picture a more perfect relationship in this fertile imagination of mine than you (or any man probably) could ever provide. By speaking to me for 10 minutes because I had a sudden urge to converse with you will not encourage me in my adoration of you. Sorry, you're just so good that I'll adore you with or without encouragement, this is what memory does to me. Guess you're stuck. But maybe eventually I'll want to call again and maybe you won't hang up. Just wanted to throw this out in the universe...
~luv me~

Is this how real people meet?

I was leaned over the engine in my mini van checking the oil level as the gas pumped. Yay me, how long’s it been since I checked the oil? A clerk was next to my car replacing the trash bag in the can.

“How’s it look?”

“Black.”

“Due for a change?”

“Very.”

“Oh well, as long as it’s not smoking and still goes down the hills.”

“And back up them,” I grinned. “Hasn’t exploded on me yet.”

I replaced the dipstick and went to shut off the pump, then turned toward the store.

“Suppose I should put more in…”

“Need a quart?”

“Or two.”

And in I went to buy oil like a good girl.

I came out to find the clerk still standing by the trash can, the bag correctly installed.

“Are you still here?”

“Yeah, thought I’d hang out a minute.”

I grinned to myself as I started to fill the oil. It took me a minute to get the cap off the reservoir, but I managed.

“You’ve got a lot of freckles on your shoulders.”

Why are we discussing my freckles?

“I was sunburned as a child.” Normally I would go into the whole long spiel about the 3^rd degree sunburn when I was 14.

“You’re sunburned as an adult.” And that I was, having been playing in the sun that weekend. ((Witty banter, Jae?))

I laughed and straightened so I could go wash my hands and he was watching me as I passed.

“And big beautiful eyes” On hind sight maybe he didn’t mean to say eyes? But this was definitely flirting… A dozen smart ass remarks flitted through my head.

“Thanks” I said with a smile.

I pulled out a water bottle and poured some on my hands, then rubbed them together and wiped them on my jeans.

“Is there a family that goes with this minivan?”

“Of course! Why on earth would anyone own a minivan if there wasn’t a family to go with it?” I walked back around to close the hood.

“Oh…” A bit crestfallen? “Kids?”

“Yep, 3, ages 11, 7, and 2, all boys.”

“Husband?” Asked tentatively.

“Oh no!” I replied cheerfully as the hood closed, “ I got rid of that!”

“I have two boys, they’re ((I can’t remember but they were teens))”

There was some other brief small talk, involving place of residence and purpose for current location (gas station).

“I don’t do this with everyone, but maybe, after we’ve talked a lot more ((he hastily added)) we could exchange numbers.”

“Maybe…” I winked and off I drove.

Is this how people meet in the real world, the world devoid of computers and Hot or Not???