There Was A Woman From Somalia

First of all, my apologies to Opinionated Diva. She told me not to holla at anyone at work and I held out for a long time. But, err, ummm. See, there was a woman from Somalia... and I... well let me start from the beginning.



I got to work mad early the other day. I mean I was 45 minutes early. I don't know what happened, I just left the house way earlier than usual, and found that there was no traffic. I pulled up in the parking lot and couldn't think of anything else to do. I finished Christmas shopping, I didn't feel like going to buy any new music, so I reluctantly went in the building. I sat in the cafeteria, turned on my Tribe Called Quest playlist on my iPod and proceeded to people watch. I work nights so there were a lot of people around that I rarely or never see. It was like a whole new scene. I saw my man D and we caught up with each other. Small talk about sports, and work, and did you know such and such works here now. Stuff like that. One of his co workers came over to say hi and we invited her to sit down and talk with us.



Man, she was fine. No, let me rephrase cuz that's understating it. This woman was beauty personified. I don't really have a type, but if I did, she would be it. She had an elegance about her that had me mesmerized. I played it off, at least I think I did. The last thing I wanted to do was seem like I was sweating her. But, cold as it was, perspiration formed. D had to go back to work, so it was just me and her. I took the fact that she didn't get up and leave when D bounced as a good sign. Maybe she was interested too. A question formed in my mind that I didn't want to ask, but I had to know.



"What is that accent?"



See, I'm sure that anytime she opens her mouth, that's the first question she gets. I didn't want to be like everyone else, but I was. She smiled, revealing a dimple on her left cheek.



"I'm from Somalia, but I grew up in London."



Ahh, that explains it. It's been well established that I have a bit of a thing for women with British accents. I can't explain it, but everyone has their thing, right? The Somalia part explains the beautiful skin tone and wavy hair, which was cut short and adorned with a silver pony tail holder. And that smell, that I don't know how to describe other than to say if it came in an incense I would burn it all day long. I'll find out what it is in our next conversation.



We chatted. Or rather she chatted and I listened intently. Unlike most people, I abhor talking about myself (an oxymoron for some one who blogs, I know.) I would much rather listen to a woman reveal herself with her words. I took it all in and learned about her. Sure, I found out the basics like age, marital status, job title, but I learned even more. I learned about her struggles with religion, her philosophy on happiness and her quest for knowledge. It was certainly a revealing, if one sided conversation. She sensed this as well, and made me promise that next time we talked I wouldn't let her monopolize the conversation.



"Next time we talk, you have to tell me about Rashan. I don't want any boring basic details, I want to know the real you, not your public facade."



Word? So that means that we are gonna talk again? I'm all for that. I guess that we should exchange phone numbers so we can live up to this commitment. We did. Now I'm sitting here wondering, how soon is too soon to call her? How soon is too soon to take her out? How soon is too soon to let her know how NOT normal I am? Should I slowly reveal my craziness or just come out with it all at once? I mean, she's gonna find out eventually, shouldn't I let her get to know the real me?



Oh yeah, one more thing... I made this whole thing up. It never happened. I just had that Sade song "Pearls" playing and decided to write a post about it. And before anyone corrects me, I know the actual lyrics are "there is a woman in Somalia." I just had to switch it up to fit this post. I know, I know. I'm not normal. LOL!



P.S. - Okay, here's the thought process behind this post. Now that I think about it, there was a woman from Somalia that I saw at the grocery store last week. She was on her cell phone and had a British accent. She was talking about religion and school and stuff. I guess that's where I got the characteristics from. And I did get to work early and I did talk to my man D today, so that's where that came from. Still though, not normal, I know.