Boy and girl meet. Boy or girl asks for number. Boy or girl calls. Maybe.A variation of that theme happened today, when I asked for the phone number of two guys.
Now, I'm not lookin' for trouble. Just some interesting conversation with some interesting local types.
Here's how it all went down.
I went to Pannakin, a cafe in downtown La Jolla that's sort of a local haunt -- the kind of place where the alternacool kids went in high school, and still show up 10 years later. Ahem.
I was there with a friend from high school, who's a painter today. She was back in town, and we simply had to hit up the Pannakin. Over chai lattes, we started making all these plans, like:
--I'll write a screen play and she'll direct and produce it
--we'll attend an internet law school, basically something totally cheap, and then open a boutique law firm specializing in defending whistle blowers, people whose insurance companies ripped them off, people with immigration emergencies and the like.
--we'll write fiction, details tbd.
--we'll spend a week in Taos, New Mexico, oil painting. I've never painted before, while her watercolors are displayed in London galleries. How would our approaches to oil differ, and intersect?
--we'll launch a mix of start-ups, with ideas far too lucrative and earth shattering to describe here. (hint: think bdsm and/or pet trends)
--we'll track down our high school English teacher and find out if he's ok (rumor is, he's not)
--we'll learn to make really good chai lattes
Amid this flurry of creativity, a pair of guys sat down next to us and started playing chess. I know, what a cafe moment.
We started talking, and it turns out they had opinions. About Harold Pinter, politics, San Diego, and the Cohen Brothers.
D'ali and I had to leave, since we each had plans that evening, but outside, we quickly conspired.
"They were pleasant," D'ali said.
"And smart," I concurred
"And local," she added. "Let's get their numbers!"
I hesitated. Could we ask for their numbers without leading them on, or would they get the wrong idea?
"Come on, Roxy, aren't you the Daily Asker or something? Where's your moxie?"
Touchée. She was so right. What were we, in high school? Worried what they'd think? Indeed, what did we have to lose by asking!
We stormed back in, explained exactly how our conversation outside unfolded (minus the blog part), and suggested we exchange digits.
Gained: Names and numbers of two people I'd enjoy chatting with again. In the era of Facebook and cell phones, I seriously can't remember the last time I traded numbers with someone for non-business purposes. Not emails, not business cards, but numbers. For hanging out and conversation. Wow.
