Campus Romance #T

Campus Coffee Club, corner table just to the left of the fireplace.  Three occupants, Ginger Girl, Black Haired Beauty, and a big guy with a man bun and a varsity letter jacket.  I approach.  She's sipping a chai latte, Ginger is saying her goodbyes, "Gotta run!"

Manbun is holding forth, "Yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah!"  and so on.  She continues to sip her concoction.

I'm in love.

Of course, I knew who she was, but I had never seen her before in person.  It's not just that her eyes are as black as her hair and her complexion, to use a cliche, is peaches-and-cream.  It's, it's an indescribable thing.  Good thing, too, because I lack both the vocabulary and the language facility.  I'm at the end of the table now, set the laptop down.  "Hi!  Mind if I have a seat?"  Her only response is a smile cast in my direction.  Bunny says, "Actually, we do mind.  This corner is occupied, and we are busy here."

I moved across the room, sat at an unoccupied table.  I opened the computer, but I kept an eye on the happy couple at the corner table.  "Happy" seems to be a bit of a stretch.  His mouth continues to move, more or less nonstop.  She glances across at me.  And again.  The third time she looks my way Bunny stops talking, looks at me, looks at her.  I couldn't hear what he said next, but clearly, he was not making her happy.  She said something to him, took a sip from her mug.  The guy stood, all six foot eight of him, swaggered over to me.   Towering over me, "Hey.  I see you eyeing my girl.  Let it go, Mac, if you get my drift."

"I have nothing against you, Robbie-- may I call you Robbie?"  Everyone knows this BMOC, name Robert Garrison.  "Do I fancy the lady? That is my concern, and hers if I make it so.  Tell you what.  Let's go over to the barrista, get ourselves a fresh coffee and go talk it over with the girl."

Well, Rob was quite taken aback-- to such a degree that he agreed with my suggestion, and we went for the drinks.  He settled back in his seat next to the girl, I remained standing.  "Del," I introduced myself as I extended my hand toward her.  She took my hand in hers, shook, and smiled.  "Everyone calls me Ellie," she said.

"Ellie.  Elspeth, right?"

"How did you know?  Most people think it is Eleanor."

"Perhaps we could go into all that over dinner, say Tuesday evening, seven o'clock?"

She nodded.  "What's your number?" I had the flip phone from my pocket.  She told me; I entered it, hit "Send."  Her phone rang, I flipped my device shut.  "That's just me.  Call you Tuesday!  Bye, now."  I leaned in close, whispered, "What color are Rob's eyes?"  She looked perplexed, said nothing; she started to turn toward the giant.  "Never mind.  A word: don't be too intimate with anyone whose eye color you don't know."  She was looking squarely and deeply into my eyes. "Gotta go," I explained, "Big test in the morning, Lobachevskian geometry.  Midnight oil, I'm afraid."

I turned and walked away.  Rob caught up with me as I reached the door.  "Nervy.  Why didn't you ask her out Friday night?"

"Why?  I thought you might have things set up for Friday, or hoped to, so I left that open for you."

"Yeah; I wish.  She always goes home for the weekend."

"Oh, my."  I couldn't help myself.  "She doesn't see your performance on the gridiron?  See you around, Robbie."