Thursday 22 November 2012

Ditto

"Ditto," he said, and I glanced at his face, and saw a very familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Shit," I thought . . . eloquently.

And trying to back my way out of things, I laughed, smiled again, and said "Well, thanks!" and shook his hand, "I just figured, who wouldn't want the compliment, right?"  And I smiled, and turned to walk away again.

"Wait.  I've been meaning to call you.  Actually, I tried calling you a while back.  You're not in the book anymore?"

The conversation wasn't supposed to continue.  I'd planned on dropping the bomb and running away. 

"I have a box of your stuff.  It seems sentimental.  Old letters, photos, the like.  I'd like to give it back to you."

"Oh, just drop it off at my work," I said, now feeling really awkward, not having ever imagined I'd have to talk to this man again after telling him that sleeping with him was the best I've ever had.

"No, here's my card, email me," and he handed me his card as I walked down the aisle towards the door, him at my side, a bottle of milk in his free hand.

And I got in my car and drove away, hardly believing what I'd done, but really not believing his answer.

"Ditto."

Meaning, either he was being polite in an awkward situation. . . or I am the best sex he's ever had too.

And that's when that song started playing in my head.

3 comments:

SingleGirl100 said...

I feel that this can only be seen as a good thing! :o)

Dominic said...

Well, if you'd like a second opinion...

:D

Victoria said...

I suppose so SG?

On the next flight are you Dominic! Ha ;)