I miss you, Mildred!

I do really miss you.  It’s difficult for me to say, none of the other women I have met lately don’t measure up to you.  Yes, they are either too young, or too pregnant, but still, you are a much more interesting person.

Mildred, I must confess, I don’t actually know your real name.  We never formally met, so I just guessed what you name was.  Mildred is one of those beautiful, classic names, and I think it suits you perfectly.  You should consider changing your name to Mildred, unless you have one of those really beautiful names, like Candy or Destiny.  If you changed your name to Mildred, it would really help me in remembering, since I have been referring to you as Mildred to my friends and family for the last 4 years.

If you don’t remember me, we first met in Accounting 201 at university.  This was a number of years ago, and you have probably graduated and started an exciting career.  I dropped out, as university just wasn’t my thing.  I liked the parties and the people, but I couldn’t take the 10 AM classes, they were just too early, and no amount of coffee could keep me awake after those drunken evenings at the strippers.  But I am doing just fine, and am able to support myself comfortably.  I’m guessing you are looking for a man who has his poop-in-a-group, and I am definitely that guy.

I sat one row in front of you, and about 8 seats to the left.  Wait, it was 7 seats.  I had to count them so I could tell my friends who I was looking at all the time.  Not that I was staring, it would be pretty awkward if I was.  But I would take every and any opportunity to look back at you; you just have that radiant quality that I couldn’t easily avoid.  I don’t think we ever made eye contact in class, but maybe you remember some of the jokes I made, they were pretty funny.  I Googled “Accounting Jokes” and memorized the best ones so I could pull them out at appropriate times, while still not disrupting the class completely.  I don’t think you ever really laughed at them, but some people did, and that gave me a chance to look back at you while I was scanning the room for the laughers.  All that work, and you never even looked at me!  Oh well, those jokes weren’t really my type of humor either.

After that semester ended and that class was finished (I think I got a D+, that’s a pass!), I didn’t see you again until that night at the bar.  I was drinking with my buddies, like I do every Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday,  Saturday nights, and Sunday afternoons, and you were there with a few girls enjoying the greasiest wings in town.  I told my friends that you were the “Mildred” that I had been telling them about over the past year, and they were less than impressed.  They said your face was “Rat-Like”, which I countered with by saying you had “Sharp-Features”, and also called you a “Stick-Figure”, which I honestly see as a “Youthfully-Slim-Body”.

Your best feature, which my friends didn’t have the opportunity to notice, is your smile.  I didn’t want them looking at you for too long, or else they would fall hopelessly in love with you like I did, so I didn’t mention your incredible smile.  Your relaxed face is cute, but leaves something to be desired.  Then, even when you just crack a tiny smirk, your cheeks perk up, and those sharp-features allow your eyes and mouth to express that perfect bliss inside of you.  I only once had the honor of seeing you break out that full smile, but it was heavenly.  I felt a little weak in the knees, and couldn’t help smiling myself.  When you were happy, the entire world brightened up and was happy with you.

After 7 more beers that night, I finally had the courage to speak to you.  I came to your table, and offered to buy you and the other 3 girls at your table a drink.  You politely declined, saying that you had just started another drink, and that you were waiting for someone, so I really shouldn’t sit in that seat at your table for long.  I appreciated your manners and straightforwardness, so I left, but only after wishing you and your friends a pleasant evening.  I’ll never forget what you said next; “Thanks, see you later.”

But I never saw you again, Mildred.  It still hurts me today that our paths haven’t crossed.  I long to see that smile, and hope that I can be the person to put that smile on your beautiful face.  I hope that someday, somehow, we will meet, and I will say to you:  “Mildred (or whatever your real name is, but you should seriously consider changing it to Mildred), I will be happy everyday for the rest of my life if I can make you smile, just once.”

This entry was posted in Finding Women and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to I miss you, Mildred!

  1. Pingback: Sharing a Poncho | dongtacular: adj; sexually inappropriate language

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s