Danny Driver

Age: 35?
Height:5'8"
Occupation: bus driver

Danny was a set up. A woman I work with has wanted me to meet him for almost two years now. She used to give me a hard time because I said I didn't want to meet him because he was the same height as me. This year, I finally decided to give in because I knew she wouldn't stop until I did.

It's been about two months since she first gave each of us the other's contact information. He didn't contact me right off the bat and neither did I. When he finally did, it was an e-mail saying that he was going to Montreal for two weeks but would call me when he got back. Three weeks later, he did, although we didn't actually talk on the phone. We traded a few more emails, finally worked out our schedules and met for a coffee this afternoon.

I was early so I walked into the cafe. There was this really cute blond sitting at a table by himself, reading the paper. When I walked in, he looked at me and I looked at him and smiled. Damn it if I wasn't already there to meet someone! Had I not been, I would've grabbed a coffee and, having no where else to sit, would've asked him if he'd be willing to share his table. But alas....

I grabbed my tea and took it outside and waited for Danny. As I stood outside in the sun and cold, I glanced back towards the blond, who was still looking at me. He went back to reading his paper and Danny approached. The date was on.

Since there was really no where to sit, he grabbed his coffee to go and we took a stroll down the Drive. We ended up sitting in the park at the other end and talked for about an hour. He had to go to work and I had another date to get to (not that I told him that), so we started back to where we started.

He asked me if I wanted to get together again. I hate it when they do that because I feel too guilty to say, "Not unless you just want to be friends." He's a really nice guy though, so I'd go out with him again. But no sparks on my part, again. We parted ways.

I walked passed the cafe again, certain that the blond would be gone. He was still there, reading his paper. He was sharing his table with a woman who was reading a book. I was pretty sure they weren't together, but couldn't find a good enough excuse to go back in. He looked up as I went by and I smiled a little smile again. I went into the used bookshop that I had spied on my way to the cafe, half-hoping that the blond would come in and say hello. He didn't.

A girl can daydream, can't she?