If This Were Sixteen Candles

I often think of my life as a movie, specifically a coming-of-age film complete with a self-depreciating voiceover and indie rock soundtrack.  There are moments that happen every day that I know will inevitably find their way into a screenplay, a story, or some random file on my computer, (along with downloaded pictures of Andrew Garfield).

I was standing in line at Paradise Donuts this morning reading a text from a coworker when I heard a husky voice ask, “Is that one jelly-filled?”  I looked up to see a handsome, dark-haired stranger gazing into the glass case.  The woman behind the counter was just as caught off guard as I was.  “Uhm, yeah,” she finally mumbled back.  She then smiled.  “Why, yes it is.” 

The stranger ran his hand through his hair, indecision contorting his (what I would assume to be) usually handsome features.  It was at this point that I could have inserted myself into the conversation.  I could have suggested that he try a crueler, or maybe a bear claw, but alas, I kept quiet.  I stood frozen in line, lost somewhere between the coffee machine and the exit door, hovering there just like the lingering scent of sugar in the air. 

If my life were a movie, I could have spouted, “You know, a real mean  would try sprinkles,” or something infinitely more witty.  He would smile, and I would smile, and our moment would quickly develop into a conversation covering everything from comic books to local bands, all the while discovering that we had an absurd amount of things in common.  But at that instant, my nerves were as pliable as the jelly-filled pastries lined up in the case before me.  And also, my life is NOT a movie, contrary to any long held notions of mine. 

The door dinged and Handsome Stranger left with his dozen (probably non jelly-filled) donuts. 

I turned to the woman behind the counter.  With a sigh, and a slight smile she asked me.  “And what would you like, dear?”