If A UPS Man Can Be Sassy--Why Not the Garbage Man?

I've noticed a peculiar thing happening lately: men. Not just men in general, you know, walking on the street, high-fiving each other, flexing their muscles while they wait in line for a latte. No. This is altogether stranger. I've noticed men noticing me. This is an epiphany. Truly. And I'm not sure if it's something that's always happened or if this is a recent occurrence. Lately, though, they're being awfully nice to me and I don't think it's because my t-shirt says "Please Don't Kick Me". Nice men are popping out all over the place, and really, it's starting to freak me out.

Today I stopped to get lunch at Marie Catrib's (lentil samosas and tabulli) and the guy behind the counter with tattoos decorating his arm like evil lace, talked to me about this old hig school buddy he just saw and he hasn't been in high school for 13 years (which means he's 31) and said buddy is married to his high school sweetheart and isn't that amazing because relationships are so hard, aren't they, and communication, well, that's what it's all about. I nodded dumbly, then handed him my money "Here." I said. He said "You make sure to come back in here soon, okay?"

Then I walked out into the weird universe I'd just entered.

Went for a run.

Came home to the garbage truck idling in the driveway, and the garbage man pulling away my green can. Hmm. That sounds mildly naughty. So I'm going to get in my house and he stops me: "Hey! Are you the owner? I just met your mom. She's really nice. Where'd you move from."

Before I answered, I noticed that he was looking me directly in my eyes and that he was very very handsome, in the way that a UPS man or a mailman or a construction worker is handsome. It has something to do with the uniform and the ability to lift heavy things (which could be you, naked). But the garbage thing was a bit of a turn off. I told him I was separated from my husband. "Hey! I'm just getting a divorce! If you need anything, let me know. Seriously. It's a long road, but you'll be glad you walked it."

Then we had a five minute conversation in which we found out our kids are the same age and that relationships fall apart if you don't have good communication.


Then the guy at La Cantina asked me if my margarita was all right. 

Yummy margarita on the rocks with salt.

Oh. I guess that wasn't weird. He was just being a waiter. Still, weird kindness is going on...and at the reading I gave last night, I did feel like eyes were on me. And they were, because I was standing on a stage alone with a spotlight on me, but it's more than that.


The point is: I'm not invisible anymore, and it's awfully nice to be seen.

Cheers, all.