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You found a brick in your burrow hole and you were sure I had done it. With your curly brown hair and that killer smile, I would have loved to have seen your face when you found it there. I am asking you to leave your dignity at home and join me at the Hard Rock hotel next weekend. You can hold my purse.
Debbie, the wrong delivery address lady, when you walked into my home that Saturday morning, you brightened it up so much, that in a daze, and extremely nervous, I time-tripped to a scenario that has not existed since July 2008. To quote Graham Nash: "I Wish That I Could See You Once Again Across The Room, Like The First Time …"
Sitting in the oldest house on the plaza on the morning of Saturday the 21st, you walked in the door and introduced me to beauty that all the art in town had failed to do. I talked to you breifly but immediately regretted not asking you to lunch, which I'm sure could have turned a regular day into a limitlessly memorable one. Please give me a "do-over" because replaying the incident has left me longing for more.
We sat across from each other on our respective aisle seats. You laughed at my jokes, and let me blab about inconsequential life events. I mouthed, "Oh, my God!," and you expressed sympathy as the young mother with the crying baby moved into the seat next to me. You obviously enjoy reading, music, and cycling. When we landed, you checked the temperature on your iPhone for me, and then you graciously had me depart the plane before you. What a gentleman! Thank you for the pleasant encounter.