Once I finished with my shower and an awesome breakfast, I dressed up in a pair of low rise dark blue jeans that I never wore without a long shirt. No one wants to see your panties and if they do trust me it’s not pretty. I wasn’t going to be the butt of someone’s joke, pun intended. I chose a long white tank top and dressed it up with a bright green infinite scarf from American Apparel, (I have one in every color) put on a pair of black converse and off I went.
I took out my IPod classic. Classic you’re wondering? It’s only because I love to listen to my whole collection of ten thousand songs and having them shuffle. I really like not knowing what was going to come up. It somehow added to my experience of walking downtown. I pressed play and out came Radiohead’s Give up the Ghost, once the guitar riff hit, my feet hit the pavement.
The sun shined onto my face and a gently spring breeze caressed my body, I let myself take in the moment, this was going to be a fucken awesome day. I started to walk once I heard Thom York’s voice crooning. As I walked up to the main street I felt my Iphone vibrate, I looked down to see a pic of my mother in a scolding posture. I took it when she was yelling at me once when I was at the house. I pressed reject not wanting to talk to her, don’t get me wrong I love my mom but the woman can make Jesus feel guilty. Today was going to be my day, I decided it and no one was going to mess with it.
I kept walking till I reached the museum, I loved it here especially the archaeological exhibit, I had a major in classics of the ancient world mainly Greco Roman but I also studied a little bit of ancient Egyptian. I can’t explain it but growing up Greek and living there in the summer months made you realize how great history was and that the land I stood on was so old and significant. Montreal never made me feel like that, it made me feel cool and fresh but it never had that feeling of grandeur or of greatness that was hidden down on the ground.
I was a bit of a privileged kid, I traveled to Greece most of my life and seen almost all the great archaeological sites there was to see. So it was a natural decision to pursue my career in archaeology, not to mention watching Indian Jones helped. The movies were awesome and he led an exciting life, hello who wouldn’t want that?
The iPod shuffled and Portishead started to play, Mysterons was the perfect fit for how I was feeling. Before entering the main building I entered the free exhibit. I knew the museum since I worked in it with my professors and entered in the ancient Greco Roman part of the building. I stood in front of the vast doors and let all the ancient vases and artifacts seep into my eyes. I felt little butterflies as I watched the new artifacts that I help catalog. I walked over to a large amphora and slowly looked over the painted scene, it was one of Herakles. The song ended and Plastyc Buddha took over with Voyeur De Luxe. I bobbed my head losing myself in the music and my life ambitions when a slight tap thumped my shoulder.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I ripped my ear phones off and had a hard time catching my breath. I was bent over not seeing who had scared the living shit out of me.
“Sorry” the man’s voice was low and rough, “I was trying to speak to you but you weren’t paying any attention to me.” I stood up, annoyed that someone would do that.
“Obviously I wasn’t paying any attention to you. I was listening to my mus….” All the air in my lungs went out and I was left with my mouth open. I could seriously catch flies right now. He smiled again showing me his bright whites, it was my fave Suit. I looked around trying desperately to look for the camera, I was being Punk’d right? He waved his hand in front of me and I nodded incoherently, oh Jesus he was sexy. He wore dark blue washed jeans with black combat boots, but the expensive ones that never saw combat but rather were designed for chic rich people, and a white v neck t-shirt with a dark grey blazer. Fuck me!
“Hi” I said meekly.
“Hi” his rugged voice was commanding as ever, oh god and he only said hello.
He pointed to the pamphlet he had with him. “You said it was a great exhibit.”
I smiled. “Actually I said that Dali was great.” My voice was foreign to me. I’ve never swooned over a guy before, well that’s not true I did once when I was twelve. I convinced myself I was madly in love with a local boy and everything he did made me swoon.
He dropped the pamphlet and we both reached to grab it, our hands touched and I felt my body jolt, what the fuck was that? We were both still bent down but I had yanked my hand away from him. He looked at me like I was odd. Great now he’s going to think I think he has some kind of disease or that I’m some kind of prude which I’m not trust me. I’ve been with men, well more like boys who honestly knew very little if not anything about sex. Once and awhile I met a guy who knew how to treat a woman, you know ‘lady’s first’ but it wasn’t often. I had never felt like this, I seriously was crushing on him. He was just so incredible. Part of my brain had wished I could find my prince or my guy, mine and mine alone and for me he would look just like my fave Suit.