This is my friend Rachael. This is a photo of my friend Rachael with Fabio, a photo which lives on my fridge and stares at me whenever I get yoghurt or beer.
Last night I went to the fancy-pants grocery store to buy champagne (as one does on a Thursday night). I walked past the cheese and produce thinking, “Oh, I hope there some cheese samples tonight OH HOLY SHIT THAT IS FABIO.”
Yes, there was Fabio, surrounded by a small group of people (mostly women). You should know: THIS IS NOT THAT WEIRD. Fabio is shilling some new health food product these days so has been making the fancy-pants grocery store rounds. This is how Rachael met him several months back, before she snuck that photo on my fridge.
But, you know, I still wasn’t expecting to see HELLO FABIO at 8 o’clock on a Thursday night at my grocery store. Fabio has never been my cup of tea, but I will say, in person, he cuts a STRIKING figure. Taller than I expected and good bone structure (what, it’s totally a thing). He actually looked like a pretty nice guy — chatting with all the ladies and whatnot. I couldn’t believe I’d run into the dude on my fridge. And I realized I HAD to get a picture for Rachael.
Only — I didn’t want to be the creeper sneaking photos. I mean, there was even a sign up basically asking the creepers of the world NOT to do that. But I HAD to get this photo. I am decidedly NOT GOOD when it comes to this sort of thing. I get all psyched out and then just deflate like a sad balloon. I was giving myself little pep talks about it, trying to get pumped up. Do I go stand in the crowd? Do I introduce myself? Do I walk up and say, “Hi, you met my friend and your picture is on my fridge”?
And just as I was trying to nut up, Fabio saw me walking past, made eye contact, and smiled.
I think that’s the only thing that can describe the facial expression I made. It definitely wasn’t in the smile territory. It was a smirk born out of “OMFG FABIO IS MAKING EYE CONTACT ABORT ABORT!”
So did I pull it together and go say hello? Get the picture for my friend? No. Of course not. I scurried over to the champagne area and HID BEHIND THE BOTTLES, sneaking glances at the crowd. Sorry, 2013, this “being brave” thing is off to a mediocre start.
Fabio, if you ever read this, the smirking girl says “hello.” Oh, and your picture is on my fridge.