Random Encounters and Nice Suits

So there I was, just minding my own business while browsing the gum aisle next to the checkout line at the employee cafeteria in my building, and I saw this guy standing there, all random and whatnot, just an everyday Joe kind of guy, buying some coffee. I thought to myself, Hey, nice suit!– because dude was all pimped out with the classic three-button wool suit and power tie (red)– and then I thought, But he should get those sleeves tailored, yo?– because his sleeves were just a smidge too long and could thereby tarnish his apparent near-perfect street cred with the suit-wearing government employee demo. (Hey, I just call it like I see it. Don’t shoot the messenger.)

Suddenly, WHAMMO! One of those Wait-OMG-I-Totally-Know-That-Person! moments hit me like a truckload of Krispie Kreme donuts (I’m hungry, so sue me): I graduated from high school with this guy, like, seventeen– I mean several– years ago! Back in Arizona! Which is SO far away from here! Like all-the-way-across-the-COUNTRY far away from here! So faaaaaaar from where I live and work now!

There he stood. Right there. A piece of my past, just buying coffee and shizz. Craziness. What the…? Did I wake up in Bizarro Land?

Okay, here’s where things got a bit tricky. I admit, I wasn’t one hundred percent positive that this guy in the nice suit with the unfashionably long sleeves was BS (I swear those are his initials, so work with me), a cute, funny guy who used to hang with the Cowboy Crew, then went away to college and turned skater dude (random?). A PHS alumnus from those halcyon days of my yesteryear, if you will. So I did what any other sane person would do in my situation.

I totally stalked him.

In my defense, it all began with a simple double-take slash Wait Just A Cotton-Picking-Second look, but quickly escalated into a wide-eyed, full-on stare. Oh dear. Did I ever stare. But whatever. You have to admit there was a bit of a surprise factor there. I mean, I hadn’t seen this guy since high school and suddenly he’s standing in line buying coffee at MY place of employment, and I’m not supposed to stare? Just a little? The sheer surprise factor alone… I think Miss Manners would give me a little leeway here. I think the Manners Police would only issue me a warning. I think — okay, fine, I’ll stop with the metaphors. But I have more. Don’t think I don’t. Because I do.

Unfortunately BS (hoo!) caught me staring, so I cunningly deflected suspicion by grabbing two packs of gum and a box of Tic-Tacs… which in retrospect was maybe not the coolest of moves because he was probably all, “Oh… crazy lady’s got breath-freshening issues…” which, first of all, RUDE!, and secondly, I certainly DON’T, so shut up Mr. My Sleeves Are Unfashionably Long! Geesh. Judgmental, much? Some people.

Anyhoos, you know how in that one episode of Gilmore Girls when Lorelei was angry at Dean (Jared Padalecki– mmm…) for breaking up with her daughter Rory, and there was that scene where we could see Dean stocking shelves at the supermarket (he was the bag-boy, keep up, people!) and in the background Lorelei was staring at him through the supermarket window? And she did that funny bit where she spotted Dean, hesitated, walked away, then suddenly reappeared, walked past the window a few times while throwing quick, hilariously conspicuous glances inside, until she finally stopped, steeled herself, and went in? Well that’s what–

–wait, what? Really? You don’t know that scene? Huh. Okay, how about that scene in Grey’s Anatomy when George wanted the Chief– who was recovering from brain surgery– to sign a grant form so Joe the Bartender wouldn’t go bankrupt and lose his bar just because he needed that super expensive surgery where they basically killed him and brought him back to life? Which was totally cool? The killing and bringing back to life thing, that is? And George kept loitering by the Chief’s hospital room, hovering, peeking around the doorframe, trying to be inconspicuous but failing miserably? And it was funny? That one? Remember?

No? Okay, whatever, you get my point. And I apparently spend way too much time watching and thinking about television (and thinking about watching television), but that is neither here nor there so we will move on.

See, I was Lorelei and George all rolled into one– with the unintentionally conspicuous staring and the reconnoitering and the peeking around corners– and I am pretty sure I scared the ever-loving bejeebies out of BS (hee… BS… I kill me), truth be told. Because as I skirted the wall separating me from BS and the rest of the cafeteria, I misjudged the travel time from the cash register to the exit– a rookie mistake! damn!– and I rounded the corner too soon, coming this close to barreling into him. Of course this forced me to break out the classic Stop, Stare… Run Away! Run Away! manoeuver, which is a tricky business, I don’t mind telling you.

I shall never forget the hunted look in his eyes as he bolted for the door…

But whatever. I rushed back to my cube and looked him up at Classmates.com (I could NOT remember his last name, and hello? OCD?), then Googled him, and lo and behold, we work for the same agency. He apparently works out of our Colorado office, which would explain why I haven’t seen him around, but still! How coincidental is that?! So, SO coincidental, that’s how much!

I totally emailed him.

What?

[time lapse]

Well, that’s a relief. I just got off the phone with none other than Mr. BS (HA!) himself, who called me after receiving my email. And considering the sheer volume of exclamation marks and OMG!’s peppered throughout said email, it was jolly good of him.

Turns out he recognized me also, so I apparently only THOUGHT his Wait-OMG-I-Totally-Know-That-Person! look was a Dear God Please Don’t Let Her Be Kathy Bates-In-Misery Crazy Stalker Lady look. Which, honest mistake, right? And to be frank, BS (it seriously never gets old!) needs to work on his “looks” because the resemblance of the former to the latter? Uncanny. That’s all I’m saying.

And… I just realized I never told him I liked his suit. It’s a shame, really. I could have warned him about The Sleeves.