Filed Under: Dating
The minute I locked eyes with the tall chocolate man behind the register at Urban Outfitters, something inside me awakened. It wasn’t love at first sight, but more like whoa you’re really hot and you keep looking at me maybe you think I’m hot too– whatever feeling that is. He kept glancing over at me from behind the counter and I kept pretending not to notice, while panicking on the inside. I was buying candles and a pair of sunglasses (all that would fit me from that store), and wasn’t sure what I should do if by chance I was called to his register.
This was (before Robert) when I was starting to understand that a Plus Size Princess can never predict who will be attracted to her. I had been going to the BBW parties in NYC and the experience of going to bars/clubs where my size was not an issue was doing amazing things for my confidence.
So there I am, making eyes with the store clerk at Urban Outfitters with butterflies in my stomach. I was next in line and there was a 50/50 chance I would be called to his register… but do to a missing price tag, I wasn’t. Instead I was waited on by a polite hipster girl who wrapped my sunglasses in tissue paper and sent me on my way. As I tucked my credit card into my wallet I snuck one last glance over to my chocolate cashier and to my terror/glee he was staring at me too and he smiled.
When I got home, I was still thinking about him. Without speaking he had stirred something up in me and I couldn’t ignore it. I wanted to know more about him and the way he looked at me was as if he was interested. Before I realized what I was doing, I googled the phone number for Urban Outfitters and dialed it.
“Urban Outfitters, how can I help you?” a cheerful woman answered.
I froze– I hadn’t really thought through what I would say, so I began to wing it.
“Hi… Um… I was just in your store and I think one of my friends was working the register but– the line was so long I couldn’t speak to him… he’s a really tall black guy with a bald head?”
“Oh, yeah– Brian, he’s here but he’s on break.”
“Okay, um… can I maybe leave a message for him?”
“Okay– Can you tell him that CeCe called. Here’s my number…”
I gave her my name and number, hung up the phone and exhaled deeply. It was a random slightly stalkerish thing to do, but somehow it made me feel better. I was becoming more fearless when it came to men, less convinced that everyone was going to reject me. This was good.
Two hours later, my phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize.
“Yeah, this is Brian, someone left a message for me to call this number… CeCe?”
“Yeah, that’s me, um… hi.”
“I was in the store today and you kept looking at me… I just… I just wanted you to have my number and I figured since you were at work you couldn’t ask for it.”
“Oh,” he laughed. “Well, a lot of girls come in the store. What do you look like?”
I couldn’t bring myself to describe myself as big/plus size/fat (I’ve grown more since then, but at that time it wasn’t happening) so I offered to text him a picture.
“Okay cool,” he replied. “send it to me now, I’m about to get on the train though.”
We hung up and I sent my most recent, cutest, full body pic. I figured I was being more forward than I had ever been before, there was no need to hide now. 40 minutes later I had a text back:
You are so beautiful
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