curly

i find it funny that i see him everywhere i go at queens.

he's about 6 feet tall now, with a halo of curly curly strawberry blond hair.

he wasnt always that tall, but his hair was always that untamed. that's how i recognized him six years later. and 13 hours away from where we first met.

its funny that of all the people i would see from the Soo, its him. and its extra amusing that he doesn't even know or likely remember i exist.

It was grade nine. my first high school dance and my bestfriend christina had a huge crush on this "hot" foodball player, whose name i forget. she decided that she would only work up the courage to dance with him, if i volunteered to dance with his slightly less "hotter", red-afroed friend, who at the time was less than five feet tall. I decided i would, although it was very awkward.

i did what i thought was dirty dancing at the time.however years later i realized that shaking your arm ontop of your other arm, is slightly less provocative than i thought it was.

he was nonetheless my first dirty-dance partner. even if we didn't really do it right.

and six years later, i see him walking down union street.

i secretly giggle inside every time i see him.

i like imagining that in the midst of all of the students, all of the strangers, hundreds and hundreds of them, there's that one out there, that attempted to awkwardly grind with my 14-year old self.