Courage: Or, One For the Girls

I occasionally ride the bus with a very cute man who used to live next-door to my ex. We work in the same building and run into each other frequently. I recently came to the conclusion that he doesn’t know my name, even though we’ve been saying hello to each other for years. I decided that the next time I ran into him, I’d be all flirty and say, “I suspect that you don’t know my name. If I’m wrong, I’ll buy you a coffee. If I’m right, you owe me a coffee. Deal?”

Of course, I never really intended to follow through with any part of this plan. It was just a little fantasy I’d play out in my head, something Courageous Trish would do. I am rarely, if ever, Courageous Trish.

I told some people of my daring plan, and while they all thought it was a good idea, no one, no one, really believed I would have the guts to pull it off.

This morning, guess who was behind me in the breakfast line. That’s right, Cute Guy From the Bus.

He nodded and said hey, and I nodded and said hey, and then I turned to him and said, “I have a question for you. Do you know my name?”

I could tell from the look on his face that he had no idea whatsoever. He was totally dumbstruck. It was pretty damn adorable. “It’s Trish,” I said, holding out my hand. “It’s okay, we were only formally introduced once at a party and I think we were both a little tipsy at the time.”

Theresa was there too, and she also introduced herself and then promptly left the two of us alone to chat (thank you, you’re fabulous). We talked for a few minutes, and while I never managed to get out the part about the coffee, it doesn’t matter. I was able to talk to a cute, available guy who I have had my eye on for awhile.

Maybe we’ll get to know each other better and progress beyond the saying hello stage to the going out for drinks stage, who knows. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that today I was able to do something that kind of scared me. And that's something I can be proud of.