Bwahahahahaha!

In case you didn't know, that's my evil laugh. I'm probably going to hell for being so smug this morning but damn it was amusing.

So. Story:

I leave a job site and on my way to the office I swing by the La Madeline on Lemmon for a chocolate croissant (YUM) and a coke. I'm feeling kinda swanky eskimo because this morning I decided I was sick of jeans and cold be damned so I put on my tweedy miniskirt (the one with pockets) and thick black tights and a bright blue turtleneck sweater and my uggs (I'm sick of jeans, not insane. It did snow today and I was walking around in it.) I even did hair and makeup. Of course, given the weather I then tossed my father's old peacoat over it. It's longer than the skirt. yeah.

Anyway - back to the story. So I get my little bagged croissant and take my cup over to the fountain to fill it with two lemon wedges, a bit of ice and a LOT of caffeine. Yum. On my way I see a guy sitting at a table filling out a form of some sort. He's looking a little lost but very familiar. As I'm picking up a lemon with those little plastic tong things it hits me: This is none other than Very Hot Guy from high school! I was so surprised that I over-squeezed and shot my lemon wedge into the ice reject pan. So, in middle school, when I met VHG he was, in fact, Very Hot. Blonde and charming and popular and talented (theatre) and nice. He was always nice to me when we had classes together and he'd say hi in the hallway...etc etc. However, he shot me down cold the couple of times I got the courage up to ask him out (I said he was popular right? Well, nice is nice, but popular is popular and when you're 13 popular wins. Every time. Plus I was awkward and geeky and ridiculously weird. I'm still weird, but now I've embraced it. If only I were so confident 16 years ago...) Also the girls he hung out with were MEAN. Grade A bitches, they were. At one point accused me of stalking VHG. This was sophomore year when my cool factor went up half a point by the grace of being on Drill Team (not a popularity contest.) I think I killed the half point when my only response to that was to snort derisively and say "If I was stalking him, he'd already be dead." Yeah. I've got mad skills.

Fast forward to now. Essentially 14 years since I've spent any time with him (our last class together was sophomore year before we were all diluted into the senior high) and while I have gotten hotter and hotter (see previous entry where I've announced that my goal is to be a MILF who looks 36 but is actually 43) he has swelled. And lost a good amount of hair. And was sitting alone in a La Madeline at 10am on a Friday filling out a form. My awesome powers of deduction have led me to believe that he was filling out a form for the modeling agency that is housed in the same building. Having worked closely with the owner of said agency (Incubator shows) I know her taste. And let's all cross our fingers that his charm hasn't faded.

At any rate, when I figured out who it was it was all I could do not to burst out laughing at my perceived reversal of roles. So instead of saying "Hey, VHG, how've you been? Remember me? We were in school together!" I filled up my coke, bit my lip, collected myself and strolled past him, thankful that my legs still err on the side of chicken.

I did google him as soon as I got home, though. To no avail. He shares the same first and surname as a football player, a comic book artist, some politicans, a PhD...the list goes on and on. And if he's on myspace he doesn't go by VHG and his profile is set to private.

Aside: while I was trolling myspace I did run across another guy on whom I had a crush...we'll call him Orange Crush... and he's married with a kid/kids and according to the single photo he has up he's still hot.

Once I got to the senior high I managed to find someone else to have a MADDENING crush on, as well as some very rewarding and functional relationships. :-D Hmm.. think I'll go google the OTHER VHG and see what turns up. Maybe there's an actual pot-belly involved! Mwa-ah-ah-aaahhhh!