Introducing Mr. Perfect

Today I was in my own little world on the skytrain. I was trying to read my new book "Julie and Julia" which - as a side note - I thought I wouldn't like, because it's about cooking and I like cooking just about as much as riding the skytrain. But I found a hardcover edition at a second hand store for $5.00 and just couldn't resist. And I love it, it's written so well. She's funny and I can totally relate. Everyone needs a vessel in which to discover themselves, and for Julie, it's cooking. I'm not going to go out and buy a pot or a pan or anything crazy like that, but I am enjoying the read. But on the skytrain today my reading was being interrupted by people talking about the new skytrain we were riding. They were talking about how 'cool' it was that there was a screen that lit up what station you were at, and thought it was 'stellar' that the end point was flashing red instead of yellow (yay, mass transit for dummies...oooooh, or maybe the complete idiot's guide to riding the skytrain.) And then they start talking about how they're going to go ride the new Canada line today...just for the 'fun' of it (seriously not paraphrasing here....fun...) So, I look up to see who these people are who have nothing better to do than discuss transit with complete strangers and who do I see at the other end of the train car, but Mr. Perfect (for lack of a real name...) You know, I blogged about him last week. I was going to fake a coughing/choking/sneezing fit to attract his attention. There he was standing before me - and I should clarify he was not talking about the skytrain buttons (phew!) My face totally lit up, and then he noticed me! Actually, he noticed me gawking at him with this silly grin on my face. Immediately, I looked down at my book. But I couldn't read anymore. My heart was racing. I looked up quickly and get this....he was still looking at me!!! I can't even begin to tell you how beautiful this man is. He is perfect. There is nothing about him that is physically unattractive. Some men can have beautiful, broad shoulders, but a huge nose that is totally not proportioned to his face. Or a handsome face, but a great big mole on his cheek with hair growing out of it. Or beautiful skin, but horrible hands (my mother always told me you can tell how nice a man is by what his hands look like....I don't really know what that means, but I've always noticed a man's hands first. And if I don't like the hands, I cannot date them. It's a deal breaker.) But no, Mr. Perfect is perfect. If he were mine I would take him with me everywhere I went. Everywhere. People at work would ask who the guy following me was, and I would just say, "oh, he's mine." In fact if I could, I would like to just look at him all the time. I could (and would) sit at home all day and just admire his beauty. This might be a little awkward at first, but I'm sure he'd get used to it after a while. The trouble is once the whole fantasy of having him as my accessory dissipates, I am reminded of all my insecurities. My extra 20lbs, my quirky sense of humour, my cellulite, my less than perky 'gals' (I mean, I am 31...) I'm reminded of the fact that I'm a single mom and that typically scares men away, it doesn't attract them. And I think that while he's definitely a 10, I'm maybe a 5. I don't attract men like Mr. Perfect. I attract the old, married men. I attract the liars and the cheats and the freaks. I don't attract anything like perfect. And while I'm not looking for 'perfect' perfect, I am looking for my perfect. Maybe he was looking at me because I had a huge bug crawling in my hair, or spinach in my teeth, or *horror* maybe my fly was down (nope, I was good!) We played the peek-a-boo game the whole ride which consisted of 40 glorious minutes. It was wonderful. It was fun. If that's all of Mr. Perfect I ever get, it was enough. I was giddy the whole night at work, I was floating on air. I felt like a silly little teenage girl. And I love that feeling. The exciting thought is I could see him again. Oh, I love the skytrain!!