I had my last first date today. For those of you who know of my whorish ways, this may be a shock that’s larger than a bread box; but I am officially off the market… and she’s the one. I know it with the certainty of my own name.
Ours was a chance meeting – I was just passing a store that could pound a nail I didn’t know was sticking out until I saw a place selling hammers. Sydney seemed to be waiting for me. Almost six feet tall with a crown of dreadlocks draped just past her shoulder, her look was almost regal. Words were a melodic mélange of Caribbean, British, and Spanish flavors that reflected her Jamaican upbringing and British prep schooling. I could sit for hours just listening to that voice.
Courtship moved so quickly – within moments of our meeting Sydney was massaging my neck and shoulders. And that was before she really started to work on me. Forty-five minutes later I knew I was in love…with the best haircut I can remember and I was off the market for a new barber.
Posted by restaurant refugee 
