#thedocter

2 April 2014

Dear Potential Reader(s),

I wore my new Doctor Who shirt today. I wore my new Doctor Who shirt AND I went to Barnes & Noble today. Pretty solid day, I’d say. Just wait. There’s more. The following is an account of my pseudo attempt at espionage in Barnes & Noble involving a Doctor Who shirt, a chicken salad sandwich, Ender’s Game, and a guy in a yellow shirt.

I went to Barnes & Noble, henceforth known as B&N, on my way home from work today. I had read an online excerpt of Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, but, like most online excerpts, it ended in the middle of a sentence. Rude. Unlike most online excerpts, however, this one provided a sizable chunk of actual story, like one and a half uninterrupted chapters. I enjoyed those first one and a half chapters well enough that I was at least intrigued to finish the sentence that was so rudely and abruptly cut short. I marched in, feeling confident in my Doctor Who shirt, despite my obvious lack of make up, and walked straight to the Scifi/Fantasy section of the store, my usual go-to. The book, alas, was not there. I ventured over to the Fiction Literature section where, behold, victory was mine! Thumbing through to the place I left off, I leaned against the bookcase and began to read. I was so engrossed in the story that I didn’t realize there was someone next to me, browsing titles. Worried that I might be in her way, I walked over to the café and found an empty bar height table. I tossed my purse in one chair, sat down, and continued reading. I finished chapter two and started chapter three. Before I could become even more committed than I already was, I stopped at a breaking point in the chapter. I am currently reading two other books, Ender’s Game (Card) and The Tragedy of Coriolanus (Shakespeare).  Plus, I recently bought two new books to take their place once I’m done, Hollow City (Riggs) and The Witch’s Daughter (Brackston). I now knew, however, which book I would buy next with the Christmas gift card I was still nursing. I returned the book to its shelf and started to randomly peruse the bookstore, a lovely and favorite pastime.

At this point I was slightly disappointed to realize that I had not made any Whovian connections. I recently read this post about a girl who ended up going on a date with a Whovian boy she saw in a bookstore, thanks to their mutual love for all things Doctor Who. Disillusioned by this recent read, I was also disappointed that my Doctor Who shirt had not prompted any flirting either. I continued to search titles when I decided to look for Doctor Who merchandise. I started walking toward the back of the store. I looked to my right down an aisle and saw this incredibly tall guy wearing a yellow shirt. I was well aware of his double take. We made brief eye contact before I started walking again. He started walking too, so that we passed between aisles at the same time. Eventually, I turned right as he turned left and we walked past each other. The back of the store didn’t have what I was looking for, so I started back toward the front. We crossed paths again. He took notice of my shirt, and I thought for sure a conversation was about to happen, but it didn’t.

I finally found what I was looking for, an end aisle devoted to Doctor Who. I picked up and looked at every single item on display. I even considered the possible purchase of a TARDIS alarm clock that projects the time on the ceiling. Yellow Shirt lingered in a nearby aisle. His head towered well over the bookshelves, so he was easily visible. I glanced his way and thought I saw him quickly look away. I moved on from the Doctor Who display to another part of the store. During this time I lost sight of Yellow Shirt.

I stayed in B&N for a few more minutes, and then I decided it was time to leave because I still needed to stop by the grocery store. I pushed out the doors and onto the sidewalk, digging in my purse for my car keys and walking in the general direction of where I parked. I looked up as I neared my car, which was parked in the first row, when I saw Yellow Shirt a few yards ahead walking to his car. I walked a little bit slower. He reached a white car, opened the back door behind the passenger seat, and took out a backpack. He swung it up on his shoulder, closed the door, clicked the lock button, and started walking back to B&N. He saw me while I was opening my car door. We looked at each other. He hesitated just for a moment. I set my purse down in the driver’s seat, and watched him walk back inside.

Now, reader(s), I did not know what to do. Should I go back inside? For what? Under the pretense of a second wave of browsing? Even after I’d already gone to my car? To look for something I’d “dropped”? I still needed to go to the grocery store. We hadn’t even really made any kind of connection. Maybe he wasn’t a Whovian. Maybe I had imagined it. I couldn’t go back inside. I resigned myself, got in my car, and drove one block over to the grocery store.

Bear in mind, reader(s), I had texted portions of this encounter to my cousin and a few friends, none of whom had responded yet. I did my grocery shopping, stopping to watch a clip of The Pirate Fairy that was playing on a loop. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning like a fool at the sound of Tom Hiddleston’s voice, but I digress. I paid for my minimal purchases, went back to my car, and paused to consider going back to B&N. That’s right, I thought about going back. I texted my potential plan to the same previous few I had texted earlier. I waited to see if there were any immediate responses. Receiving none, I decided to go home. Stopped at a light just outside the shopping center my phone vibrated and I had a text that said, “You ninny. Just go in and get a latte and read.” Well, I could not abide being called a ninny, and she had a good point about the latte and reading. I flipped a U-ie and went back to B&N.

Pulling into the parking lot, I made sure Yellow Shirt’s white car was still there, which was when I started to feel a little bit like a spy. I brushed a few strokes of powder on my face and swept some mascara on my eye lashes, which was as good as it was going to get. I made my way straight for the café, which was situated up a handful of stairs, enclosed by a small green rail. There are some tables situated beneath the platform, in front of the main café space, as well. I spotted Yellow Shirt almost immediately. I found a table in the lower section where I was easily in his line of sight. I’m fairly certain he noticed me walking to my table. I set about getting myself situated before walking up the steps to find napkins and a cup of water. I knew he saw me then. There was another quick double take. By this point, my two other text confidants had joined in, wanting an update. I gave them a quick rundown. My cousin immediately wanted to know if I had said “hi” to him. I told her that he seemed a bit engrossed in whatever he was working on, but I was seated where we could see each other. I pulled out my copy of Ender’s Game as well as the sandwich I had bought at the grocery store. Thank goodness I had bought a sandwich for dinner because it kind of made it look like I had just left to grab food before coming back. The unfortunate thing was that now I had to eat a chicken salad sandwich in a somewhat presentable fashion, which I think I managed to do rather well actually. Then I read my book, occasionally reading and responding to texts, and glancing at Yellow Shirt every few pages. I thought I saw him look away a couple of times. He had glasses on, now that he was working on his computer and he was wearing headphones. I noticed buttons pinned to the straps of his backpack.

I thought about someone later asking me, “How did you spend your Wednesday evening?” Oh. You know. Nothing special. Just semi stalked a tall, potential Whovian in a yellow shirt at Barnes & Noble. No big.

My cousin was absolutely adamant that I slip my number to Yellow Shirt, even threatening to come to B&N and do it herself. I was terrified. One, of actually doing it. And two, of her actually following through on her threat. She text yelled at me, “This is how people connect in real life! Come on!” She then suggested that I do it on the way out so that there were no awkward conversations. This made sense. The problem, however, was that Yellow Shirt was seated in the most defendable vantage point in pretty much the entire store. He was in the upper corner of the café, with a wall to his back, and the green rail to his left and front. He was only approachable from one opening that involved walking up the stairs and crossing the entire length of the café. I mean, come on, was he like a sniper or something?!? He was basically in the seat of power where he could watch everyone and see everything. There was no way to casually walk past him and slip him my number. No subtlety whatsoever. This would mean a bold approach right up to him. Then I would have to turn around and walk a long way before even leaving the café. This was the exact opposite of “on my way out”. I expressed all of this to my cousin. Her suggestion: “Then walk up confidently and walk out confidently. Then melt down in your car.” She knows me all too well. I was worried, though, that I’d have the melt down long before making it to my car, in full view of Yellow Shirt.

I needed another’s opinion. I’m a girl. It’s what many of us do. My friend asked, “Has there been eye contact?” I was in the middle of responding (ie: not really, quick looks away, etc etc) when I paused to look up at him. I was only looking at him for about half a second when he looked straight up. And at me. Direct eye contact. I held it for a moment before turning back to the text I was in the middle of, which I now had to update to include what had just taken place. She asked, “Did you smile?”  Dammit! I did not smile! Why didn’t I smile? I should have smiled. My smile is one of my best features. That’s what I should have done. Why didn’t I? I’ll tell you why. I panicked, that’s why! And that’s when I realized that I would make a terrible spy.

I finished the chapter I was on. And yes, if you’re wondering, I do actually remember what it was about. Then I closed my book and gathered up my trash. I walked up the stairs to the nearest trashcan and then went to get some more water. On my way to the water station I was distracted for a minute by a display of porcelain mugs. I poured some water, drank while I walked, threw the cup away, and went to grab the rest of my things. I brought them up to a table in the upper section so I could continue to leisurely look at the coffee cups. Plus, this got me one step closer. I was now up the stairs. Phew. Yay me! Little victories. They count for something.

I chose the mug I wanted and went back to my new table. Now was the time. Time to make a decision. I rehearsed what I would do. In my head of course. I realized I still had to actually write my number down on something. I reached into my purse to find a pen. In my peripheral I saw Yellow Shirt close his laptop. OH CRAP! He’s about to leave! I was frantic then! Time for a new game plan. I hurried to the front to make my purchase, planning to walk out around the same time as Yellow Shirt. I had parked near him this time around, so there was that. It all worked out in my head. I got to the line and had to wait for two customers in front of me. I was literally bouncing on my feet. I couldn’t see him anymore. One of the customers had to ask a question. I wanted to push her. I mean, come on, I was kind of in a hurry. I had a time schedule. Finally, I made my way to the cash register and, literally, just as I approached the counter I saw Yellow Shirt almost at the door. That’s when I realized that I wasn’t going to make it. This new game plan was going to fail. He reached the door, paused, and glanced my direction. We made brief eye contact. Then he walked out.

I bought my mug, using part of my Christmas gift card. Seriously, I have the best brother ever. I took my purchase, looked at the cashier, and said, “Thank you, Ruby.” Then I turned to her manager standing next to her and said, “Thank you, Veveca.” I was almost to the door when Veveca said, “How do you know my name?” I nodded toward her and said, “Your name tag.” (In her defense, she was turned half away from me most of the time, and I interacted more with Ruby than her.) “How observant,” she remarked. I smirked, shrugged, pointed to myself, and said, “Sherlock.” Then walked out the door.

I wish I could tell you that Yellow Shirt was waiting at my car. Or that he was still in the parking lot. I can tell you none of these things. I relayed the ending to my three texting partners. My cousin wrote a list of lessons learned from the experience:

1) Cute boys go to bookstores too

2) Men are not going to talk to you first (which is what Disney has told us our whole lives)

3) Next time will be different; you will at least say “hello” or make a witty remark in the boy’s direction

I’ll keep the list in mind for next time.

If I may add my own list:

A) I had tons of fun! It was hilarious and entertaining!

B) I enjoyed reading my book!

C) I bought a new, fantastic coffee cup!

D) I made a Sherlock reference!

As I said earlier, all in all, it was a pretty grand evening! And I enjoyed writing about it. I hope you enjoyed reading about it.

Cheers,

Rachel