The Story of K (part 1)

I met him in a bookstore cum coffee shop. Just as I knew I always would. I was sitting down, exploring the bottom most rack, scouting for some Murakami, and he came and sat beside me. Apparently, we were both looking for the same book. And luckily for us, there were two copies.

And then two coffees.

He was 6 feet tall, just the height that I was looking for, with a lean athletic figure, short cropped hair, face that looked a little lost and softened sometimes and would suddenly change to worldly wise and hardened at other times.

He didn't love Dylan. But that was something I was ready to forego. Too much Dylan in a relationship drives one mad anyways, and I say that from personal experience. What he did have was an open mind, a desire to explore and learn, and yet that unspoken need to sit and stay in a place sometimes. All drifters are actually looking for the home they've never found. That's why they drift. It's the quest after all, for something higher and purer that keeps us leaving time and again. I've been a drifter, and would like to think I still am, so I understand this perfectly well.

I had to notice his hands. I always do. I'm a hand person. Not an eye/lip/bicep person. I read people through their hands. A friend of mine accused me of looking at her hands while I was talking, like a dog looks at a biscuit that you wave in front of it. His were long, yet not feminine. I hate soft hands on men; it naturally depicts a very spoilt, stubborn and afraid to take risks man. On the other hand, short and stubby fingers with too much roughness are a sign of a very patriarchal and conforming man. You can laugh. I'm not referring to any science. These are my observations.

He was not fair, but slightly darkish, the kind of chocolate skin that is rare to find. I also don't like fair men, and by now you'll know why it has taken me years relaxing in singledom land. I'm stupidly picky.

He was into software, a nerd at best. But some of these nerds can be very charming. I won't share the conversation that happened, but of course, coffee turned into a walk and then dinner, and before we knew 6 hours had passed. I think I may be in the falling stage soon.

He also wants to live in Spain, like I do, which I think is a brilliant sign. He doesn't write, but rather paints. I'm glad that there will be no ego clashes in that department. He also doesn't play or sing, which is also excellent, since I think these people are totally f****d up in the head.

Back to K. I had to meet him in December, my favourite month. That's another good sign. We're going for a Slam Poetry session next week. So this is the 'we're first going to be friends' phase. I will admit, I'm also very very attracted to him.

There's only one problem...