one foot nailed to the ground

Today I ran into an old flame that never caught fire. I didn't think I'd recognize her, and I probably wouldn't have if she hadn't been standing beneath the sign of a building where we both worked (and consequently met/flirted something fierce), and if she hadn't been wearing a shirt with that company's logo. As it was, I did a triple-take before saying to J, "Uhm, isn't that AC?" And it was... probably due to my three whiplash looks in her direction, AC came over--- because she recognized J. Not me- which makes sense because like I said, I wouldn't have recognized her if I'd passed her on the street (it's been a good four+ years since we've really been face to face). So, of course, J felt the need to say to AC, "And you remember _______, right?" Awesome. I was happy to go unnoticed, but oh no. Not in the plans today. Small talk followed, laden with short-scripted details of 'where are you now' and 'how's the family.' It was surprisingly awkward, probably because AC and I never got our act together. Years ago, like I said, the flirting was rampant, and the attraction was obvious. But we never actually found time to explore our connection outside of work. Wasn't meant to be, clearly. Regardless, she has been an always-wonder for me.

She's totally hot, okay. And I am not immune to these things. AC has the most amazing smile, and she is a charmer. But I can't date charmers anymore. I usually discover that's all they've got to offer: charm. & usually a great smile that they then try to use to get them out of trouble. I'm not so much into saving graces anymore.

But today- there wasn't any spark. No butterflies. No unattractive sweating. Just, hey, how are you. I probably came off as aloof, but I am aloof sometimes, and like hell would I want AC to know, at this juncture, that I still entertain the idea of her. Without that spark, though, there's nothing more to wonder about.

Speaking of spark-- or, really, unattractive sweating: yesterday found me in the same room as the Obscure Object, and wonderfully, the air conditioning was nonexistent, and I could feel the sweat accumulating on my face. My FACE. What is this?! Just the sound of her voice makes me a little weak in the knees. That's fucking lame. This doesn't happen to me. Or, okay, it does: and always when I can't make a move to lessen the mystery.

I don't know, don't know, know.