A Good Long Look in the Mirror

There comes a time in every girl's life when they you get a glimpse into what you're on your way to becoming. This happened to me just seconds ago. It wasn't the prettiest of sights. That's not to say that my doppelganger wasn't pretty, it's just... well...

I knew she was a writer from the way her hands floated around her keyboard. It looked like she was playing the piano and in this digital age, it's one of the tell tale signs of a writer. If you've never noticed it before, I would suggest that you take a look around the coffee shop the next time you get a chance.

Don't look now. I'm talking here. The second way I knew that I was destined to be this woman eventually was the way that she ate while she worked. As I shoveled coffee cake into my mouth with one hand still traipsing around the keyboard, I turned to see her with her armed with a sandwich in her right hand with her left fingers pressing onto the keys.

While many people do this and call it "multi-tasking" writers do it and call it writing. There was garbage, dirty plates and stuff all over her table. It was like a mirror image of my table. We were both sitting in the very back of the coffee shop. And you may have guessed it, she was rocking the stretchy pants too. I wonder if she wrote for an entertainment blog, vegan recipe blog or a cruddy dating blog. I bet she did.

Aside from her disheveled appearance and work space, there was this one other thing we had in common. This similarity was different in that I didn't realize that I did this thing until I was seated next to this woman.I make faces. I make condescending-eyebrows-up faces. I smile whole heartedly. My face turns to grimace. And I don't do this in any direction but the computer. She clutched her chest and put her hands up to her face smiling. Then her demeanor changed from confused to angry. From the outside, this woman was crazy. There's absolutely nothing happening. Oh, but I understand. I get you coffee shop chick. We're in our own little worlds, only looking up to glance around the coffee shop and then diving back below into the world that is writing.

So what does this have to do with dating? Everything. I've never seen a woman look so unavailable. And I didn't realize that I looked the same way. I mean, I know I want to cool my jets on dating, but is this what I want to crawl out of when I'm interested in meeting a man again? No thank you.

So thank you, coffee shop chick. Thank you for the big long look in the mirror. May your hands continue to dance the keys. May your stretchy pants never lose their form. May you finally discover that all of your buttons are just one off. May you clean up well.