get the number of those arms.

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dateline: wooZyville

11 july 1996 11:22 p.m.

I'm feeling a little weird. I was at Kahala tonight just enjoying the air conditioning and looking at clothes. I picked up a book at Waldens: "Masters of Deception: The Gang that Ruled Cyberspace," by Slatalla and Quittner. Good so far, and it's got Commodore 64s in it! I also picked up yet another black skirt and a shimmery, silver crushed-velvet top, and a couple of other cute things with little roses on 'em. I finished about a third of a burrito from the aptly named Big Burrito Co., and when I headed out I bumped into Derek. Hihughowzitgoingshouldersqueezelikethefoodhere? That fast. I was so stunned I practically ducked. He was with some other guy I'd never met and we just smiled and nodded for what seemed like thirty seconds while we stood there and I completely forgot that maybe I was supposed to say something. "Mmmmm," was the best I could manage. We chatted a little, he headed towards the smell of beans and I headed away. The only thing on my mind was the split-second when he hugged me; not a bad confusion or a good confusion, but a confusion nonetheless. Now, I'm a touchy-feely person myself but in all our chats he was pretty... I don't know, working to be nice to watch my space (while he practically tackles his friends). I didn't expect it. I went to Tower to tell Jen and wandered around a bit. She was bummed because the boss put someone else in charge of the Country Music section. Now at home, I don't know what to think. At least part of me wishes I was more prepared, at least. I think feel the exact way you do when you don't expect a handshake and you meekly hold out your hand like a wilted leaf and your grip is weak and limp and sweaty. You spend the rest of the day wishing you'd given a good solid grip, looked 'em in the eye and said, "Hello, how are ya?"