say cheese

grilledcheesevirgin

About a year ago, for about ten minutes, I agreed to meet a reader from the blog at Starbucks.  I rarely do this anymore because Chris would yell at me.  In this case though, it was fine.  The way I saw it, it was similar to meeting an online date for afternoon coffee, in a crowded place, daylight.  You know the deal.  Yes, when it comes to the blog, though, a reader can believe they know me based off everything they’ve read.  So the “relationship” begins off balance.  One could throw out “obsessed” without worrying they might be wrong.  In some cases, that’s true.  This was not one of those situations.

He was wearing a J. Crew rollneck sweater that looked itchy.  I agreed to meet him because he worked only a few blocks from where I work.  It was a friendly meeting where we discussed real estate and writing.  We parted after ten minutes, as I had work to do.  We still IM, a year later.  Last night, during a thunderstorm, this is how it went:

RealEstateMan: In your glory?
RedDiva2ooo: Yip.  I just wish I had someone to share it with right now.
RealEstateMan: Awwww.
RedDiva2ooo: Like, I wish I could just be beside someone, sitting here writing while they do their thing, and hopefully don’t mind the Mario spots all over my face, then we’d eat too many grilled cheese sandwiches.  That would be good.
RealEstateMan: I would share it with you in a friend sort of way… I make an awesome grilled cheese.
RedDiva2ooo: I’m too gross to be around people right now.
RealEstateMan: Well, if you ever want a grilled cheese or anything like that, let me know.

So I awake this morning to the usual string of emails.  Love mail.  Hate mail.  Sale mail.  Party mail.  Friend mail.  And back to love mail from Bowling For Soup.  In my previous email to him, I mentioned the rain here in New York and apologized for not visiting him abroad.  I received the following, single line, as a response:
I will always “grilled cheese” you.

He and I never had grilled cheese together.  He just knew.  I love that.

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