i.love.quotes

The "281". 

You go out to a club thinking you are definitely an 8, perhaps a close 10 with your new black stretch pants, oversized "benetton" sweater, and ankle boots (circa 1984).  And he is styling in his new "structure" vest, 501 levis and black reebok hightops (once again, 1984). 

You take one look and give him a high 2.

After slamming shots with your sisters, brothers, best friends, second best friends, runner ups, and acquaintances... you take another look at "him" and he is closing in on a high 8. 

And then...

after a few sloppy dog kisses that sober you up -- instantly -- like a pot of black coffee,

Oh, shit!

He's a total ONE!

OMG, did anybody just see me swapping spit with that dude?

AND more importantly "WHERE did all the Benettons in America go?"

Holy crush

I should go home, I know this is wrong, I am glued to my chair, I just sit here and stare

he's got your eyes
he's got your smile
he's got your face
he's got your bald head

I am fixated on the figure standing before me. He knows how to captivate an audience (unlike you who has to be "mr. center of attention" at any one's expense).

This person is the image of a love I once had. And I find it amusing to sit here and dwell on my crush on the man before me considering that I actually despise (ok, HATE) the person whom he reminds me of.

The person he unfortunately digs up from my suppressed memory and places into my consciousness is a liar, a cheater, and an A+ bullshitter. And my condolences go out to his current wife.

I frequent my crush's hangout on Sundays at 9:30 am. If only it were the coffee shop down the street, the neighborhood market, the local restaurant... but it's not.

I hang onto every word he utters (or that I eavesdrop upon) although his words don't actually register in my brain. I really don't know what he is currently saying since I am daydreaming and have lost myself in "missyland".

I suppress my crush for two very different reasons:

(1) I am happily married to a "one-of-a-kind" man who (thank, God) has no lookalikes in this country to my knowledge, anyway.
(2) he's a Father, you know, as in a Priest (the non-marrying kind)

I conjure up ways to approach him. I have visions of matchmaking my single friend, Jennifer, and this Priest. Perhaps, a visit to the confessional after several self-induced drinks is on my list.

me: Father, forgive me for I have sinned

F: yes, my child, go on...

me: if you insist... I would like to set you up on a blind date with J. You would be the perfect couple. Your both Catholic, family-oriented, kind, considerate...

F: I do not understand

me: we can go on a double date, if you are not comfortable with the whole blind date situation.

F: I am a Priest

me: right, but, you can find a new job.

F: you are dismissed. And for your penance, please do all your confessing to another Priest from this day forward.

Father was transferred at the end of the month. In fact, I believe he was transferred out-of-state to ensure that people like me do not transfer their parishioner-ship (or stalk). I can't help but wonder if he is still a Priest??

He is an excellent Priest. But he's an even hotter Priest.