Seven Minutes...

I have seven minutes before I have to get in the shower and go to work all day.

Have I updated you on the Water Guy situation?

We were forced to go with corporate water because apparently PNC, the bank that bought National City, doesn't support local businesses. So we had to cancel the Water Guy. He came in last Friday and took the cooler away. I had a good long chat with him. He's actually a really articulate, funny guy. Which doesn't help.

Before he walked out I said maybe I'd see him around. He said, "I hope so." Hm.

I wrote him a little letter a few weeks ago when I found out he wouldn't be coming back.

It said I enjoyed seeing him and I was bummed he wouldn't be coming in anymore. I said I'd kick myself if I didn't at least ask him. So I asked him if there was more to the smiles and extended glances, or if it was just wishful thinking on my part. I said that if I was mistaken, I meant no harm and just know that I think you're pretty much sex on legs (not in those terms). And I left my phone number and email. Just in case.

But I didn't give him the letter. I was in such shock because I didn't think he'd be in the day he came in. I'm amazed my mouth even worked, let alone got something coherent out and made him laugh. So I forgot...and sort of neglected on purpose. Chickened out? Maybe. Decided I'd rather have that hope than an enemy? More likely.

But he's gone.

Nick, if you're out there, here's to you.

Out