Fresh @ Pike Place: Romance

Life is a little bit funny at times as much so as it is wonderfully mysterious. It seems as though everytime one door closes, another one always opens. Suffice to say it has been a good weekend and a wonderful day in particular. Wonderful why or wonderful how or wonderful who? All of the above, especially the latter. Ever just bummed around with someone new, doing anything and nothing in particular, and had an incredible time?

Well, suffice to say I was in great company today. This is going to sound a bit emotionally bruised of me, but it's very refreshing to spend time with someone who has something to say, is very sincere, genuine and expressive. He's also quite handsome, very bright and extremely kind too.

Spent several hours bumming around town with the aforementioned/described man today, meandering from South End to the I.D. to Pioneer Square and then finally to The Market for a bit of a culinary crusade. Apparently we both have a sweet tooth and a fondness of good comfort food (a blessing and a curse). I can just hear Grace's sarcastic voice in my head now, "He likes soup - you like soup!"

Anyway, after a couple decadent mini-cheesecakes, a dark chocolate cherry truffle and a few bites of delicious mac 'n' cheese (w/real handmade cheese), we made our way into the piroshki place. Yeh, a bit gluttonous, but decadently fun nonetheless. He ordered his favorite piroshki, we walked a step outside the front door of the shop, huddled in a small nook just off the sidewalk, and shared the hot, savory Russian pastry. Mmmm ...

He happily stood with piroshki in one hand and the paper to rest it on in his other. He took the first bite and subsequently showered the front of his black button down shirt with piroshki crumbs.

Perhaps I should have just kept my trap shut, but I wouldn't let any of my friends walk around a crowded public market practically coated head to toe in pastry flakes. I couldn't help myself; he looked so cute though. The smile I felt inside erupted into a grin big on my face and I advised him I was going back in to get us some napkins. He surprised me a bit when he mildly gestured and informed me he had some napkins in his right pocket ...

I paused for a moment and turned back away from the door to the shop. Yeah, I accepted his subtle invitation to further invade his personal space, more specifically to intrude his pants pocket. Why wouldn't I?! Quicker than I realized, I had stepped closer into him and reached my hand down into his pocket. I rifled around a bit for the alleged napkins which I thought at first evaded my reach. I was a bit on auto pilot and finally came to my senses realizing the napkins were nowhere to be found. Our faces drew nearer, and I let him know I wasn't having any luck ... or was I?

The language I thought I was clearly speaking transformed from plain English into a dull mumble followed by the first of two sweet, fledgling kisses in the center of The Market in the heart of the city. It was one of the best surprises I've had all year.

Oh, then he tells me the napkins were actually in his left pocket as he pulled them out and held them up high as if to offer them into evidence. Apparently he had a free hand after all, and I have to admit it was the best piroshki I had ever had. I'll never think of piroshkis in quite the same way again.