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How Long Can You Wait for a Bi-Curious Man to Finally Kiss You?
The perils of an unbeatable Covid meet-cute
The first time I saw him, he was asleep. Stretched out in the grass, with his overturned bicycle by his side and his helmet as a pillow, he resembled the classic fairytale princess, with his billowing curls and angelic, radiant face.
I told myself to quit staring. I’m not afraid to strike up conversation with a handsome stranger, but I wasn’t going to wake him up to flirt — especially with my arms full of groceries that would probably go bad in the sun.
Throughout the lockdown, a trip to the grocery store was a genuine source of joy. I live right by a giant park, so my walk to the store is an excuse to go walk around the pond and admire the swans and the squawking geese.
By now it was August, and the path was canopied with vibrant green leaves, speckled here and there with red, as I rounded the south side of the pond on the way back home, where I saw the cyclist asleep in the grass.
As soon as I passed him, I noticed my frozen berries had leaked and were dampening the bottom of the bag. Then the heavy sweet potatoes ripped a hole through the wet paper, and all the groceries tumbled to the ground.
