Borders Journal Archive1

11/04/06

I came to Border’s tonight to read books and write about them, but there was a concert in the café when I got here. I was indecisive at first. Should I go to another bookstore, or just read somewhere else? Should I just sit in the café, and try to block the music out, or should I just browse for a while and hope for a short concert? As I contemplated this, I walked around the bookstore, looking for a book to read. The music being played was something I really liked. So I decided to sit in the café and block the concert stuff out. But as sat here looking at the singer and listening to his music, I couldn’t contemplate anything else but the sounds and images that were around me. The stack of books I brought with me just sat in my lap. My attention was wrapped up in the songs. I started to realize that this music was profoundly interesting to me. It was a man and his guitar and that was it. Over the course of the concert, I found out that the singer’s first name was Colby, but that’s all I knew. I had no idea of his stage name or if he had any CD’s published. He was cute and his music was good, and the words in his music were thoughtful and expressive. I started to think about the singer himself. He was attractive, well-groomed, good voice. All of the qualities that he had I like. I looked at his ring finger to see if he was married. No ring! Yes! He had a few fans in the audience, and they were all girls. I started to wonder if he was dating one of them. I decided that there was a good chance he wasn’t dating anyone. I started to imagine talking to him after the show. It was a small group, and I was sitting in the very front. It would be easy to talk to him when he finished. Maybe he’d even think I was cute and ask for my number. Maybe we would really hit it off. I even thought about dates we might have. I imagined him singing to me, and having romantic evenings together talking about life and music and literature. I imagined him meeting my family and getting along with them really well. I was half in love with him by the time the concert ended. As he was singing his last song, I realized how foolish I was being. I was suddenly extremely embarrassed at myself. I could feel my cheeks go red, and I had to look at my lap to compose myself. When the singer finished his song, he put his guitar down and started to walk towards me. I was so embarrassed! Could he hear my thoughts, did he really notice me, was he going to ask me out?? My thoughts were racing, and my mind was void of anything coherent to say. I was about to faint from mortification when I realized that he wasn’t walking towards me at all. He was walking towards the girl next to me. He stopped in front of her chair and started to talk to her. That’s when I realized that they were dating. He had his leg rested against hers as they talked. The look of admiration in his eyes gave him away as well. I felt a fool. I looked down at the pile of books in my lap and picked one up. I opened it and tried to read its contents, but all I could concentrate on was his conversation with his girlfriend. I picked up the next book in the pile and tried to concentrate on that. Again, my attention was caught up in their smiles and conversation. I attempted to look at the third book before I gave up. I decided I couldn’t sit there and listen to them. I got up and walked over to the other side of the room to pretend to throw something away. When the singer finally turned back to his guitar to put it away, I made my move back to my seat.
I was angry at myself. I should have gotten over my embarrassment and talked to him. Sure he had a girlfriend, but I wasn’t just interested in his looks, I was also interested in his music. I wanted to know his name and if he had any CD’s to sell. But I was so caught up in my own embarrassment that I missed my chance. He’s gone now, and I’m sitting by myself in the café and typing in my laptop. I’m alone in my thoughts, as always, and I put myself here. Another missed opportunity come and gone, only this time it’s not forgotten.