Wednesday, April 20, 2011

How I Met . . . Pescado

Pescado stood behind the counter, rearranging the fish in the glass case.  I was with my mother at the natural grocer's, and she needed to purchase some fresh mahi mahi for the meal she wanted to make for my father.  I had the day off work and accompanied her for the heck of it.  I stood back, looking awkward in my metallic sandals and casual shorts-and-top combo.  Pescado was cute, a little different than my usual "type" but in a good way.  I was trying not stare.  In any sort of professional or personal relationship, I have no problem making eye contact and holding it for an extended period of time, but when first meeting and flirting with someone, it's very difficult for me to do so.

Especially with my mother right there.

So I stood back, away from the counter.  I wasn't interested in the fish anyway.  I heard a male voice say, "I don't bite," so I looked up and saw Pescado, looking my way and smiling. "Come a little closer, I don't bite."

My mom smiled at me, so I smiled back at both her and Pescado.  She politely stepped away and left me to deal with Pescado...and the fish she'd requested.  We chatted for a bit, nothing too serious.  He handed me her mahi mahi and asked, "Could I take you out for dinner sometime?"

I was stunned.

"Um, yeah, uh sure," I managed to stammer out.  He smiled, looked behind him, and then took off his fishmonger's apron.  Next thing I knew, he was standing -- towering -- next to me, flip-phone in hand, waiting for my name and number.

I gave it to him and we parted ways.  He went back behind the counter to put on his apron and continue hocking fish to customers; I had to find my mother and hand over the fish.

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