Noble Lives On

I recently moved away from the place where my friend (and erstwhile lover) Noble Maloof resides. We no longer share a daily bus. Or passionate glances full of meaning. It seemed that when I moved to the other side of town that Noble was gone forever from my life.
But then I saw him yesterday. Unexpectedly.
I was pasting stamps onto some office correspondence for my not-as-boring desk job, minding my own business, when I look up and who should be shuffling toward the coffee and sandwich stand, but my very own Noble. My jaw dropped. This was too much. I gathered up my postage and shoved it back into my bag and stood unsteadily and approached him. He was adding a sugar to his cup of black coffee.
"Hello, Noble!"
This greeting fell on deaf ears. I leaned in closer.
"Hello, Noble!"
He turned slowly and glazed eyes looked right through me. After a moment of blank stare he seemed to recall something.
"Do you remember me?" I asked, "We used to ride the bus together."
"Oh yes, of course." He glanced off to the right and down, "I knew I remembered you from the RTA. What are you doing here?" He asked the question with so much annoyance that I felt kind of sorry I'd walked up to him.
"I work here," I said.
"Since when?" he said.
"Since February," I said.
"Oh." Here there was a pause which had come to typify my conversations with Noble. "Your first name is Sarah," he mused, "and your surname name is..." I held my breath wondering what he might come up with, "... Crestmont?" He looked me in the eye.
"Hoagland," I corrected gently. "It's Hoagland."
He looked vaguely uncomfortable like a dog that had been thrown in for a swim against its will.
"Well, how am I to remember your surname when you don't call me?" He looked hurt. "I gave you my number, but you never gave me yours!" Here he glanced around the atrium. "You should call me sometime. Since I can't call you."
I squinted my eyes. Noble, Noble. You've been such a source of amusement for a year and then some and yet somehow I've managed to hurt your feelings in the process. "I will call."
"How do you expect me to remember your name when you won't call me?"
"I will call."
He gave a slight grunt and a nod of self-vindication. "Call me," he said. He looked around and moved toward a table. "Sit down and have a coffee with me why don't you?"
"I'm sorry, I can't. I'm running errands and I have to get back."
"Oh, alright."
"Good luck with your research!" I called after him as he ambled away, coffe in hand.
And that's when I realized something was amiss. He didn't have his cabby hat on. He was sporting a dark blue baseball cap with an obscure logo which I didn't notice till it was too late.
What was on that cap and where was his cabby hat?
I headed out into the heat of a late May day.

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Blogger Worldgineer said...

Wonderful. Old smoldering fires are relit. I believe you still have a chance for a picture in front of his paintings, but you'll have to walk a fine line between friendship and romance.

31/5/06 12:13  
Blogger Tara said...

Crestmont....Hoagland..He was so close. (giggle)

Poor guy..Just when he thought he could stop obsessing about you, you're now back into his life. You will call him, won't you? ;)

31/5/06 13:55  
Blogger honestus said...

i want to hear the rest of the story, this is just gettin good...

31/5/06 15:45  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

She's such a tease.

31/5/06 16:18  
Anonymous normzone said...

That's my little sister - you've got good taste in men.

I fully expect you to follow up on this.

31/5/06 20:05  
Anonymous other sarah said...

You and Noble, reunited again.

It must be the Chinese-Dutch proverb of luck.

1/6/06 22:44  

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