Heart of Fire

A Case of the Mondays: Part 3

I walked down the street, still dabbing the front of my blouse.  After the weird vibe with Joey, I wasn’t willing to ask for a spare uniform shirt from the back - and I also didn’t think that it would fly in my stuck up corporate office.  Luckily, the aforementioned office was also always cold, so I kept a spare cardigan at my desk.  

I just had to sneak in there, unseen, and button up said cardigan before anyone noticed the coffee-tinted Rorschach test on my trusty DD’s.  

As I fumbled down the street towards my office, I looked down.  Most people in Center City start working much closer to 9:00, so the streets were pretty empty.  

Pretty empty, that is, until I walked straight into a very solid body.  

Am I going to get this individual coffee stained as well?  I thought at first.

Please don’t be cute. Please don’t let this day get any worse.  I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed to whatever forces resulted in such a disastrous morning.  Did I do something to give me bad karma?  ... tough to say when your Sunday activities are a bit fuzzy.

I looked up nervously.  This was not the morning to test my temper, but I was also completely at fault for walking head first into a stranger. Was this going to be me humbly apologizing?  Was it going to be me buying somebody replacement clothes which I couldn't afford?  Or could I scoot by and pretend that this bump never happened?  Maybe I can just say Go Eagles and run. 

My eyes found themselves resting on the cleft chin of a young man.  Ok, well, I'm hoping he's young, because he's definitely tall and he definitely has a nice, angular jawline.  

I glanced up further.  My eyes found themselves checking out a thin lipped smirk, surrounded by dark brown stubble.  OK, maybe I was checking out more than glancing at this point.  

Keep it in your pants, Roxanna. I thought to myself.  I was all over the place this morning!  Maybe I should Put on the Red Light... then I wouldn't be checking out every tall dude east of Broad Street.  

I looked up further and took a deep breath, preparing to apologize, when my eyes locked with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, and probably ever would see.  Was this guy wearing contact lenses?

I froze.  

“Yes?”  The man asked coldly, “Don’t stop.  You were about to say something.”

“I was?”  I squeaked.  

“Yes.”  

“Oh?”  I blinked, looking at those piercing eyes.  I licked my lips and took a shallow breath.

“You seem a little air-headed, so maybe I’ll help you out.  It might have been, ‘Excuse me’, or perhaps ‘I’m sorry’, ‘Are you OK’, or ‘Can you see through the front of this blouse’?” the man drawled, crossing his arms, not moving an inch.   “To save us both time, I’ll respond to all of the possible questions. You’re excused. I know. Yes. And yes.”

I looked down at my damaged clothing again, and then snapped out of it.  I took a step back, snapping out of it, and clenched my fists.  I opened my mouth, indignant. I raised my fist and saw my watch - 7:54.  

“s**t! f**k! YOU…. UGHH! ASSHOLE!”  I snapped. I was going to be caught arriving late.  I shoved the man - he didn’t move an inch. It was like trying to move a refrigerator.  A really, really, good looking refrigerator.  Zoolander level good looking.  Ok, I'll go around you then... don't provoke the big strong man, Roxanna... 

“Maybe next time,” the stranger chuckled after me as I clutched the front of my blouse and headed to work.  I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

I tossed my hair and looked back at my shoulder - what's the harm in checking out a hot guy, even if he is a jerk? - only to see the idle street lamp over where we were standing sparkling like the top of a Christmas tree.  

I looked at the lamp, and then down at the man.  He froze, eyes bulging, looking at the same Tesla coil cluster as me.  Glanced between me and the lamp several times, shook his head, and then glanced down at his palms, as if he could read the answers to some secret test on his hand. 

"Hey Asshole! Look out!"  I snapped, annoyed and frightened at the same time.  I extended my palms to indicate for the man to move - only to see sparks jumping from finger tip to finger tip.  

What kind of storm was this?  

I rubbed my palms hastily against my blouse.  It seemed to protect me from that hot coffee before.  Maybe this was some magic sisterhood blouse type of deal.  I'd have to ask Alice, as I stole it from her closet.  s**t.  

I looked up, just in time to see a quick flash - and then suddenly the man was gone.

Ok, now I don't think I can blame the blouse on that one.