And darling, you can share it all with me ...
This morning, as I rode the train to work, I had my iPod on shuffle and James Taylor's version of that song came drifting through my headphones. An unexpected memory popped into my head:
An old boyfriend and I, in the old-fashioned tub from my old apartment. This same song was on my shower radio while we were messing around. I remember being cold because it took longer to fill the tub than he was willing to wait. I also remember being amused that he was so excited about doing it in the tub. I mean, it's hardly exotic. Made me wonder how repressed my predecessors had been, but I liked feeling like a wanton enchantress.
That relationship wasn't successful, but it had its sweet moment, duly noted, and then I returned to my morning paper and reading about new Cubs' pitcher Carlos Silva.
I got off the train and headed through the lobby of my office building -- an 80+ story beheamoth that's clearly visible on the skyline and from planes overhead -- I saw him.
He lives in Michigan now, but he must have been back in Chicago, and in my office building, on business. I saw him in the Italian coffee shop, staring at the menu board. It was him alright. He always took his coffee very seriously. Plus he has a distinctive profile with a sharp nose and I remembered the bald spot he was so embarrassed about.
I didn't say anything to him because 1) I feel fat and 2) we never had that much in common when we were dressed, so what would we talk about now and 3) I was running really late.