In Which, My Story Begins

"Girl of My Dreams"

"I was just thinking about you," a deep, saucy voice states as a body sits next to me.

I glance sideways, "I'm sorry, what?"

I turn and discover a young man, stretched haphazardly over the old bar stool he occupies. His skin is a warm olive, obviously kissed by the sun, and he has a beanie pulled down over his ears, making his obviously shockingly curly hair wild at its ends. He's wearing these geeky glasses, and I immediately wonder if they are necessary or if he is portraying himself as "hipster". I glance down and evaluate the rest of his outfit subtly. Tight, dark skinnys, a plain white tee shirt, and a plaid shirt. 'Hipster,' I decide.

"Let me correct myself," he says, "As I was walking in to this lovely shop, I was contemplating the girl of my dreams. She's gorgeous, ya know? Typical man stuff. Gorgy red hair, firey personality, great face, rockin' bod. Every time I come in this place, I hope I'll meet her. And god, you're her."

I raise my dark eyebrow at him and run my fingers through my thick, wild black hair.

"You're nothing that I pictured the girl of my dreams to be, but here I am, wanting to take you to the court house right now."

My other eyebrow lifts and I smile sarcastically.

"How much did they bet you? I'll give you the money if you'll just leave me out of it," I sigh. My statement seems to shock him out of a void.

"Wait, what? Who bet me what?"
I glance around the shop. There are only a few others, mostly elderly people having their morning coffee and scone. No one is watching us.

"No one put you up to this?" I ask, cautiously.

"No?? I mean, I wouldn't do it even if they did. That's a really shitty thing to do. I just saw you writing and immediately wanted to get to know you. You have this aura or something. You're so approachable."

"Oh..." my voice trails off and I clear my throat, "well." I glance at my watch, "oh, I need to go." I gather my notebook and pen, nodding at the barista when he offers to take my cup.
The man frowns at me, "Can I at least get your name? Please. I'm Caulder."

"Winona."

"Like Winona Rider? Sickkkk."

"Nice to meet you, Caulder." I say over my shoulder as I hurry from the shop.

"Same time tomorrow, Winona," I hear as the door shuts behind me.