I met Maria at a restaurant where she worked as a server a couple of years ago. Please read (Maria – Amor en vano – Part 1,2,3) for her back story. It’s important you read it because it’s my very first entry. You see, Maria is my inspiration for Phicklephilly.
It had been a long time, and I wanted to see what my muse was up to these days. Maria’s a busy girl so she’s hard to get a hold of let along a meeting. I decide to text her.
“Hey Maria. It’s been a minute. Wanna meet up for a drink to catch up? That or lunch?”
“Hey, maybe next week we can do lunch, I’ll take a look to see what I got going on. I know I have jury duty on Wednesday.”
“That would be great. Ahh… jury duty. Nobody likes that.”
“What day works for you next week for lunch?”
“Haven’t got that far yet.”
(Maria reaches out to me!) “So I’m thinking coffee will probably be better tomorrow. Let me know if that works.”
Oh, hello. What time works for you? Let’s meet!”
“I’m going to go to the gym in an hour, so after that. I’m thinking 2:30.”
“I have a 3pm meeting so 2:30 would be cutting it close. Do you have any other time this week?”
“I could meet after jury duty tomorrow.”
“I don’t know when I’ll be done. I mean it’s at 8 so hopefully by noon I’ll be done.”
“That would work. Let’s try for that.”
“Getting ready to head out.”
“Let’s meet at Gran Caffe L’Aquila.”
“That’s fine. I’m coming from my house so it’s closer.”
“Okay! I’m upstairs.”
“Okay. Almost there.”
I’m not really a coffee drinker. I like the smell and taste but it’s just not something I do. If I was told I could never have coffee again I’d be fine with it.
Maria cruises in and the room lights up. I’m so happy to see her. She looks amazing. Hasn’t aged a bit. Caramel skin, dark eyes and bittersweet chocolate tresses. Just gorgeous.
We order coffee and whatever kind she ordered comes out looking amazing.
Maria is still working at the same place she was a year ago and is doing well. She’s currently seeing someone and that’s been going on for about a year. I give her all the info to what’s going on in my life.
She tells me she’s going to visit her mom in Florida next week and I suggest she come to the salon for a few tanning sessions. She loves this idea and I tell her I’ll even give her a 10% discount.
We’ve known each other for a few years now so I decide to be honest with her. I tell her how I hadn’t written a word in 10 years and she inspired me. I tell her how phicklephilly came about over lunch with a colleague, and love and lust for her and a few other servers around town. The very first post on this blog is about her. I had feelings for her back then. I tell her I’m cool now and just happy she’s doing well and agreed to have coffee with me.
I tell her how I loved taking her to the flower show, and rib her about the $100 lunch at Devon. I tell her how I was a bitter bitch about all of the things I did and how nothing was reciprocated. But I’m laughing about it now. I tell her I like the way she is. Because she’s an inspiration. What started out as an idea has grown exponentially.
I reminisce about how I when I last met her for coffee and how I professed my love to her. I quote her in her response of; ‘do you even think we’d be compatible?’
It’s classic phicklephilly phailure! I embrace all of my clumsy failures with Maria. I tell her I’m so grateful that I met her and how she’s my muse. You should never date your muse. I’ve done it in the past and it never works. It’s just an unhealthy way to view another person with whom you’re in a relationship.
I brought on all of this past pain myself. I was so infatuated with her and she was just providing great hospitality at the restaurant. I should be happy she allowed me to take her to the flower show and agreed to meet me for lunch. She’s 32 and gorgeous. She can do whatever she wants. I realize all of this now and revel in her beauty and charm.
I’m really enjoying this sweet hour with my muse. If you look at the ‘About’ page of this blog you’ll actually see a dedication written about her. Make sure I spelled everything right, Maria!)
The time flies by and she and I have to both go our separate ways. I ask her if periodically if we can meet up like this and catch up for an hour. She agrees.
I know she’s busy with school and work but if she’ll squeeze me in once a quarter that would be fantastic.
Maria offers to split the tab, and although that would have been marvelous at our Devon lunch, I insist that I pay.
Later when we’re walking down the street she asks me to send her the link to my blog so she can read it.
“What’s my blog called?”
“Maria – Amor En Vano.”
Maria’s Hispanic. She knows what that means. She hugs me and I thank her for her time.
“I’ll see you at the salon on Saturday!”
And off she goes.
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