swooning

I've had a crush on a Supreme Court justice here for nearly two months now - ever since we snuck out of a presentation early and acted chummy.

Probably because we rarely interact - but there's always the possibility that we could - the crush grew.

But I've had such a hard time tracking him down for this project we're working on together that yesterday I stormed into my colleague's office and announced, "He's no longer my imaginary boyfriend! He could bring me flowers now and it still wouldn't work! We're over!"

"Now, that's not true," she said.

How right she was.

Today he waited for me in his chambers, his secretary calling several times until we connected. (She pitied me after I waited an hour for him yesterday.) I arrived with work in hand and thrust it at him, seeing the very long line of people waiting to see him.

Oh, but we weren't going straight to work. No, he wanted to know all about me. This felt way more like a first date than a "I'm writing a presentation for you, Your Honor." But not sleazy at all.

We had a nice little chat, he gave me the go-ahead with the work, and then he said the most unusual thing: he asked if my first name was given or adopted. How on earth did he know that I legally changed my name a couple years back?

He said he'd like to invite me to dinner at his house, that he has a wonderful cook. I said I would love to go and I gave him my phone number.

I cannot help myself. When an imaginary boyfriend calls, how am I not supposed to answer?

If I were not attached, I would be a shameless groupie. But, I am attached, and that is that. But can't I still enjoy wonderful Liberian food with an intelligent and interesting person?

We'll see if he really calls - I'm not future tripping. Just daydreaming a little perhaps.
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ETA: Just for some cultural context, when I said to him, "Oh, you're from the North, yes?" he started speaking wistfully of his home. We could have probably spent much time talking about it and I would have learned much.

I just kept thinking: you were the spokesperson for LURD, a rebel group from the North during the war. This is how I know where you're from.

The war. Oh, man.