You can't put your arm around a memory

I was at Newbury Comics in Burlington after work today and checked to see if they had The Watchmen, Allen Moore's graphic novel. They didn't have it and I wasn't suicidal or even slightly grumpy over the fact; I've got plenty of reading material right now. On my way back to the highway, I decided to run into Barnes & Noble, which was on the way, to see if they had the book.

At the store, I rode the escalator upstairs and headed to the graphic novel section, where I searched in vain for the book. I figured they'd have a few copies of it because it's one of the most popular comics ever. As I scanned the shelves, a woman, who I recognized immediately, walked alongside a B&N employee towards me.

I remembered her face but not her name. She was someone I worked with during my brief stint as a waiter at Paparazzis, and damn, was she hot! She was one of the people at the restaurant I got along with and I was pretty sure she had a crush on me. I found that bewildering, because normally, especially then, I would rarely entertain the notion of an attractive, younger woman having any feelings for me other than platonic.

I didn't think, based on our personalities, we'd be a good match, but I wasn't adverse to having fun with her in an erotically-charged capacity. The rub was her rough and tumble boyfriend that, even though she was aching to dump him, was still an active presence in her life. Which meant if I ever became involved with her, my chances of suffering through an awful beating were greatly increased.

Eventually, I left the restaurant with nothing of consequence ever occurring between us. I didn't feel lousy about it, but I sure would have loved to have had some adventures with her. That was a few years ago, before I moved to Somerville.

Back to the present. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she stood near the B&N employee who was trying to locate a book for her. I thought she must be looking for a book for her boyfriend or brother---she never seemed like the graphic novel type. I hovered around the section for two reasons, the first being the most obvious: I wanted to get a good look at her---the looking was good, I tell you---and I wanted to continue looking for the book I came to get, but I didn't want to get too close to the situation.

Eventually, after debating whether I should go talk to her, I decided I'd go ask someone who worked there if they had The Watchmen in stock. As I waited my turn at the little circle of a help desk, Kristin (just remembered her name) approached, still trailing the woman who was helping. The woman asked the girl at the desk, right before I was able to make my own query, if she knew whether they had the The Watchmen in stock. The girl said she wasn't sure and made her way over to the graphic novel section.

I followed the group in order to have my unspoken question answered. As the girl poked around through the books, I wondered at the strange coincidence of Kristen and I both looking for the same book at the same time. I'm a believer of meaningful coincidence, though I haven't seen it in action very much, and I figured this was one, and I should probably go talk to Kristen.

I never did. I convinced myself that all that would happen would be a bit of small talk and me getting home later than I intended. So, why bother? But I liked her---she was sweet, had a subversive sense of humor, which took the edge off the shitty job, and was hot. I determined I'd go talk to her. What the hell? Of course, by the time I made my mind up, she had already left the store.

What's the moral of the story? I don't know, probably something about not passing up opportunities or some shit. I don't feel like I really missed out on anything, but I kind of wished I said something, if only to point out the fact that we were seeking out the same book.