Considering everything that's been going on lately, I sometimes forget to mention what life is like as Anne-Marie. Between all my misadventures with Donna and Julia, my hanging out with Bryan and meeting Darren and Ginessa, it might seem like my entire life is based around me, Todd, just happening to look like someone else.
I guess all the other stuff just seems so much more mundane. Like it's less relevant than the stuff pertaining to the Inn. Like, my mind's been overwhelmed lately with preparations to go back (2 1/2 months if I'm not mistaken!) that I hardly have time or motivation to mention my Anne-Marie life. After all, does anybody care how accustomed I've gotten to doing the laundry of a prepubescent boy, and a pubescent girl? Or how good I've gotten at preparing different meals to fill the weeks, fewer and fewer of which involve the microwave?
Maybe not. but sadly that doesn't mean I can skip doing those things. It's just that, while I'm doing them, I tend to block out the part of my mind that is Todd (this happens during sex as well,) and then when I sit down to write my occasional blog entries, it's usually because something dramatic has happened with a fellow Inn-visitor, not because I mixed a red pair of panties in with my whites.
A few days ago, I was grocery shopping. I was reaching for the last box of Honey Nut Cheerios when I see another hand grab at the same time. I look over at the man attached to that wrist. He smiles awkwardly and lets go. "I don't need them," he says. I shrug and go on my way.
A little bit later I run into him again, this time in the coffee aisle. He's staring at the different types of tea, eyes glazed over. I happened to need tea as well, so we got to talking.
"I didn't used to drink tea, but my girlfriend got me hooked on the stuff," he chuckled. "Now she's gone and I've got no idea what to get."
"I didn't used to drink tea either," I mentioned. I neglected to add, "Until I became a woman." It's a weird affectation I've picked up from acting more mature.
After a little bit of pleasant chit-chat, mostly tea-related, he tells me his name's Jack, he's a Grad Student at some University around here. He looks to be about my age - the age I was when I was a man. We actually ended up doing a little joking around, making up funny stories about each different type of tea ("Who is Earl Grey anyhow?") As we started to hit it off, I suddenly got very wary, and asked him "Say... you've never been to Maine, have you?"
He just shrugs and says no. He asks me why I'd ask and I play it off, "You just reminded me of someone. Never mind."
He's about to say something else, starting with "I don't know if I'm out of line here, or anything, but..." I stop him and hold up my hand, specifically my ring finger. "Little word of advice. If you're going to hit on chicks in the middle of the day at the supermarket, check their hands."
"Ah," he looked embarrassed, "I was hoping you were divorced or... a widow, or single for whatever reason. I'm not very good at this. Did I mention my girlfriend just left me? Six years. I transferred out here to be with her. All of our friends were hers, pretty much."
"Well, it was a nice try," I consoled him, "I mean, try not to dwell on the sympathy angle too much, but you seem like a decent guy."
He was about to walk away. I stopped him, "Look. Don't get the wrong idea or anything, but why don't you give me your e-mail address or something? If you really don't know anybody around here, maybe I can help."
He shrugged, hesitantly, "I don't see why not," and handed me his business card. I wasn't sure what I intended to do with it... maybe pass it along to "Julia," or whatever. I'm definitely not in the market for an affair or anything, but I guess I just took the compliment too well. Anne-Marie isn't a young hottie or anything but I've always looked in the mirror and thought she had a certain milfishness. It's just that I never get looks out in public.
I checked my reflection to see if there was anything in particular that might've seemed overly appealing about me today, but no. No significant cleavage, no bare legs, bum looking nondescript... I just look like a normal lady. Not even wearing makeup, barely brushed my hair. So whatever this dude was looking at, it must've been very genuine, and, I dunno, I thought that was nice. It reminded me of those times on public transit when I'd find myself making casual conversation with a pretty girl. Left me with a similar feeling... minus the mild arousal.
It's the kinda feeling you hold onto, no matter what life you're living... it's hard to explain.
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