I am standing in front of HOUSE on the sidewalk. It is my favorite restaurant in North Beach, San Francisco. My friend is running late because he can’t find parking on the street.
Then my cell rings. It’s Mary. She wants to know if we can do the girly thing tomorrow – shopping followed by afternoon tea. I wander on the sidewalk while talking to Mary on the phone.
A stretch limo drives past me and moves up the hill. I am still on the phone with Mary. Then all of a sudden the stretch limo stops right before Vallejo Street and begins to move backward. It now is in front of me and the door opens. A tall man with dark brown hair steps out of the limo. I’m still talking on the phone and watching this man’s movement.
He stands next to me and waits patiently.
“Is he waiting for someone too?” I wonder.
I notice that the motor on the stretch limo is still running.
Mary and I finally figure out the perfect arrangement. We’ll meet at Stonestown Galeria and have a late lunch at Nordstrom Café. I’m about to get off the phone when the Italian man speaks.
“Ciao Bella!” he greets me with a big smile. “Are you waiting for someone?”
Damn! That’s a heavy Italian accent. I’m dealing with a FOB.
Dude, of course I’m waiting for someone! Otherwise why am I standing in front of a restaurant?! Do I look like a panhandler?!
“Yes. My friend is late. We are booked for 7 pm dinner.” I check out this Italian guy standing in front of me – black pinstripe suit and slicked back hair. And I detect a strong smell of men’s cologne.
“You’re beautiful! And I love your short hair!” He winks at me when he mentions my hairstyle.
“Thank you. I’m flattered.” I have to show my appreciation because my parents raise me well. But I’ll run out of patience when my hungry finally strike.
“Do you live in San Francisco?” he leans toward me and asks.
“I moved to Asia 10 years ago but…”
Before I finish my sentence he cuts me off. “No wonder! You’re gorgeous! You’re too beautiful to be a San Francisco woman. Women in San Francisco simply are not beautiful.”
What?! Is he for real?!
“But I used to live here and I still pride myself for being a San Francisco woman! What do you have to say about that?” I just have to beg to differ.
“Oh you’re beautiful. I don’t see women as beautiful as you in the city! Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asks.
“No, thank you. I am waiting for my friend to show up for dinner.”
“You must let me take you out for coffee and dessert when you finish dinner then.” He is very persistent.
“No, thank you. I know for sure that we’ll stay for coffee and dessert ‘cuz it’s not a complete meal without sweets.” Does he know that dessert is the most important course of the meal?!
“Here’s my card. Please call me tomorrow and I’ll take you out for a romantic date. Oh my mother would love to meet you. You so beautiful…you’ll make mama very happy! I’ll pick you up in my limo and we’ll have dinner, drinks and so much fun. Promise you’ll call me.”
“Ha. I’ll see how I feel when I wake up tomorrow.”
He walks back to the stretch limo. The window is rolled down halfway, “Ciao Bella! You call me tomorrow and I’ll take you out, okay?”
