MAGGIE MAE

This weekend was weird, weird, weird. I hiked the Jordan trail into the Witchy Woods, which was fun. Then I got a haircut. My man, Rodney, always does a great job. If I go in and he isn't working, my hair stays long until the day he comes back.

I was going to go to the IMAX and watch Harry Potter, but it was sold out by the time I got there. I was supposed to meet up with some friends, but somehow, we missed each other. Apparently I sat on the opposite side of the big, divided lobby from them, and we never hooked up. I really must consider a cell phone! So they called me at home and left a message saying to meet them at the Chili's in Plano @ Park & Preston. But when I hear "Chili's in Plano" I, automatically, think of the one at Park & Central. That's the one where we always meet. Particularly this group. So I went there, instead of Park & Preston (perhaps, subliminally, trying to avoid the crossroads where I work) and waited for a long time. But nobody showed up.

A woman, sitting with her friends at a near-by table, kept looking at me. ("Must be the haircut," I thought. "Thanks, Rodney. You da man!") Every time I glanced at her, she would gaze at me, most curiously, as if she were perplexed and intrigued all at once.
She was in her forties, I'd say, with a a slightly hooked nose (sort of exotic, in a sense) where it looked as if it might have been broken.. But she was very attractive, I thought, in a French sort of way, with full, pouty lips. Sexy. Something about her seemed kind of witchy like a fortune teller or gypsy woman in an old time circus.

There was something about that beak of hers, though, that struck a deep chord in my sub-concscious.

What was it?

My table-server was named Heather, and she was very friendly -- and cute, too; tall with a most notable posterior. She brought me a drink and told me all about her two kids (and ex-husband, and no boyfriend) and how she was working at Chili's while finishing her masters degree. And she told me what nights she worked, etc., etc., with little provocation from me.
But that woman with the exotic nose kept glancing and oggling and peeking and peeping at me.
"She wants me!" I thought.
I considered striking up a conversation, seeing as how she was, apparently, digging my scene so much. Or my haircut.

I thought of what to say:
"So ... how did you come by that olfactory malfunction?"
OR
"Hey, what the hell happened to your nose?"

Maybe not.

I was about ready to leave when Heather said there was a call for me on the Chili's phone: it was my friends and they were at the other Chili's on Preston saying, "Get your butt over here!" I left Heather a more-than-fair tip and thanked her for being so nice. I should have got her phone number, but something about that other woman's nose (and her French mouth & her calculatedly tousled hair) had me flummoxed -- I even walked out with the wrong part of my debit card slip; the part I signed. Heather chased me down in the parking lot and I gave her the proper portion of the check. I apologized and said, "I'm really out of it, tonight." And that was true. I couldn't seem to do anything right. Missed them at the theater. Went to the wrong restaurant. I felt like a putz.

Finally, I got together with my friends at the proper Chili's. We drank coffee and talked about Harry Potter, Barnes & Noble, Borders, people we all know, Tolkien, fate vs. free-will, etc. And, apparently, I'm going to have to see the T.V. show "Lost", because from how they all described it, it sounds like something I would really enjoy. Lisa has the show (so far) on dvd and said she would lend it to me.

Afterwards, I paid a visit to Brian and, while I sat there with him, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend watching "War of the Worlds", my thoughts returned to that woman with the interesting nose.

Then it hit me!

I clapped my hand over my opened mouth. My eyes bugged out from their sockets! It couldn't be!

But it WAS!

Renee!!!!!!

My first!

She was the older woman who made a man of me in an upstairs bedroom of her family home, on a big brass bed, way back in 1985. I'll never forget following her up the stairs. She was wearing a pair of Daisy Dukes and I was loving the view.

What turbulent times those were for me. So much was changing. I was completely lost.

I haven't seen her in twenty years ... but it was her, alright. I'd know that proboscis anywhere. She was in an abusive relationship, before we met, in which her seedy ex-husband broke her nose ... and knocked out her teeth to boot!. These had been surgically replaced, as I recall, with prosthetic plastic teeth of some kind - and they had always looked perfectly natural.
It was definitely her. A little older, obviously. But it was her. No question.
The lips. The hair. The size and shape of her body (though mildly heavier). And, of course, the schnozzle.
Everything.
I just wish I had realized it at the time, but I was so caught up with my friends and their whereabouts that I just missed it. If I had known who she was, I would certainly have said something to her.
No wonder she kept looking at me!
Maybe the gods were trying to tell me something. I go to the wrong Chili's. Make an ass of myself. An old ghost (though, in retrospect, a dear one) reappears, unexpectedly. And, meanwhile, someone new tries to get my attention.

So - hey!

Bring on Heather!
Let's see, what did she say? She works Sundays, Saturdays, and Wednesdays. Always at night.
Maybe I'll have to pay Chili's a visit.


TODAY'S QUOTE:
You made a first class fool out of me
But I'm as blind as a fool can be
You stole my soul
But I love you anyway
--- Rod Stewart
"Maggie Mae"