How Kathryn Got Her Groove Back

This is what has happened so far:

It's Spring in New York, and last night I was feeling absolutely lovely. New Marc Jacob's dress (peach and very feminine). Bright, bright City.

But even so, I wasn't sure I wanted to go out. For a good half hour, I thought I would just stay around my neighborhood. Take a walk. Call the people whose parties I was supposed to go to and say "Too tired."

But the new dress is gorgeous. So.

Half an hour later, on my way into the City, I was running very late. At 14th Street I got off the Local to transfer to the Q Express. I waited and waited, but no trains came on the Express. Until, finally, a Q arrived, but came by way of the local track. Trains in New York are often traveling on different tracks, so I thought nothing of it, and boarded.

That's when it happened.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man sit next to me. I knew instantly who it was. No names (yet), but he wrote and directed and acted in a movie that I have LOVED for years. The kind of movie that I've seen half a dozen times, and still consider renting, because the characters are quirky and odd and smart. Because I'd want them to be my friends--they could even be me.

But, I wasn't star struck. I wouldn't have said anything to him at all. Would've just told Emily about it later because she knows the film, and knows I adore it.

Only then I saw that the train was, in fact, running local. Meaning that I would be even later for my friend's show than I had anticipated.

"Shit," I said.

"Why did you say shit?" he said.

And I promise to tell you the rest of the story.

If our date tonight goes well.