<sub>(for unknown reason, LJ deleted the 30-odd comments on an older entry of the same name. These things happen from time to time, I suppose. In a conversation with an mutual friend, it turns out "Strawberry Girl" just got married a month ago.

The news, in conjunction with some recent events, put me in a wistful mood ... so a repost for posterity's sake.</sub>


trawberries.

She tasted of strawberries ... faint and aromatic, possibly from dessert a few hours ago, possibly from lipstick. The moment couldn't have lasted longer than thirty seconds before we broke apart - and her eyes were still closed when I opened mine.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," I said with a rueful smile.

Her eyes lit up with laughter - "Oh, don't sound so morbid! We'll be in touch. Call me!"

She squeezed my arm once, turned ... and then she's gone.

Whether it's the beginning of a full-time relationship or a fleeting moment of shared intimacy that vanishes by daybreak, there is always something magical about that first kiss you exchange with someone, isn't there?

It's that moment of hesitation; the sweetness of sensing the thousand tiny imperfections in the process of absorbing a woman's idiosyncrasies that, for me, lingers in memory long after everything else has faded away.

Wait wait - back up.

So it's Friday night, and I'm picking up my blind date from her cousin's apartment. My briefing on this woman was short ... a good friend's college roommate was in town for a week to visit her family. She ended a two-year relationship about one month ago, works as an artist/graphics designer at a web-design agency, and she was a runner-up in a Miss Chinatown pageant three years ago.

Naturally, since I'm a shallow bastard, one of these factoids stood out and grabbed my attention. That's right - I've got this major fetish for women who work at web-design firms.

Knock knock, Neo.

'Helen?'

Damn - she is attractive. Knee-length black cocktail dress, shoulder-length hair pinned back over one ear, light touch of makeup and a sunny smile that could pierce a storm cloud with its radiance. It's incredibly flattering when a woman takes time to look good for you - and I'm certainly not immune to its effect. Please dear god don't let me screw this one up I prayed, to no deity in particular.

With reservations for dinner and dance phoned in hours ago, we departed.

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