He had me at handshake

Three months ago, one of my closest male friends named Good Guy asked me for help. He had this art exhibit somewhere in the city and he wanted someone to make sure his guests were well-fed. So I gave him the group who catered for my cousin’s wedding and took care of the reservation until the opening night. He was very happy he included my name in his thank you list.

I remember arriving in his showroom with a couple of friends he also knew. When I spotted him talking to a bunch of guys (one of them was cute), I headed straight to the bathroom to freshen up. My hair was a mess. I didn’t want Cute Guy and company to see me like I have just stepped out of an ancient wardrobe.

There was something about being tired, hungry and grumpy that shoo people away. I wasn’t introduced to Cute Guy and company until later that evening. I went straight to the buffet table and had my noodles and tea there in such a feel-at-home fashion. I could even go and take a nap there without me worrying about what Good Guy would say. I was there the entire night forgetting my manners and the reason why we were all there. It was his night as a celebrated artist and that reality didn't sink quite well in my empty skull.

Good guy was smiling when approached us and shook our hands. There was really something about him that intrigued me since Day One. He couldn’t look straight at me and when he would, he’d shift his gaze to somewhere. Until now, I still don’t know the reasons why. I’d like to think I was just gorgeous that time and he just couldn’t believe I could wear a decent piece of dress. He was so used to seeing me wear extra large shirts and go about town on banca slippers. Or maybe, that Careline powder made me look like a frozen cadaver and he just didn't know how to tell me. Whatever.

By the way, that was the first time we shook hands after so many years. I hope we’d do it more often.