I always saw Natasha in bars.  She was a Grammar School teacher but I never hung out at Schools so I had to take her word for it.  Because of her stunning dark eyes, intense dimples and perfectly placed smile, I would forgive her for the way she was parading around the bar with her girlfriend.  I vowed at first sighting that I would chart her progress with the supposed girlfriend. I ran into her often at various popular clubs around town.  I perceived her habitual membership to clubs as a sign that her relationship was tedious and temporary or perhaps just open to a third.  Then one night, Natasha strutted past me without her usual large clutch bag girlfriend.  I got so excited I began to approach her for the first time.  I’d say something spontaneous like “I’ve been a Jehovah’s Witness my whole life but suddenly upon seeing you I want to participate.”  I dodged a blond with enormous hair and a swinging Martini, scooted by two hummingbirds trying to build a nest and managed to stop just short of stepping on Natasha’s open toed heals.  I was about to say something even more absurd and spontaneous than the other thing I was initially going to say when suddenly this very large dyke with a floral blazer fell directly between us from the sky like an Easter Island statue.

“Honey, what do you want to drink?”  The statue said to my next girlfriend.

“The usual baby.”  Natasha replied while her dimples dug in for a long winters nap.

The usual?  They have a usual?  She just got out of a relationship with that other non-descript girl.  How did I miss the window?  There must not have been a window.  Maybe they got together like cars colliding in a tunnel while the other girl was still in the passenger seat.  Luckily or sadly Natasha and the brightly colored statue had not noticed my presence in their intimate moment, and I was able to skulk away privately.

Later that night the same girl who coincidentally resembled Jennifer Jason Leighs’ tragic beauty too much for comfort, came and leaned on some railing against a tree next to me.  I tried to be completely still so she wouldn’t notice my obvious obsessive yearning.

She breathed.  We could be silent together.  A good beginning, I thought.  I looked at her.  If it hurts to look at her maybe I shouldn’t, I thought.  She smiled and melted the ice off me.

“I’m Natasha.”  She said soothingly.

“Cool.”  I said.

She laughed.  She knew what I meant.  Sometimes people get you.

We talked for a while, until her big square girlfriend returned.  I met her girlfriend who was kind, smart and impossible to dislike.

I still see Natasha around occasionally, sometimes with different women, and none of them has ever been me.