I looked up, was about to say hello, and it wasn't her. It was some red haired girl.

Sasha had left.

She had somehow gotten past me. She must have been that lone woman I was convinced she couldn't have been in the very beginning who was putting her coat on while I ripped off my clothes in the men's changing area.

I was crestfallen. But that emotion was quickly replaced with a small but growing powerful self hatred and feeling I've felt at the core of my being, (among other good ones as well) that I had done something to irreparably damage a grace from God and I wouldn't ever get another chance. I work hard at trying to reframe my conception of God and make it a loving, forgiving, abundant God rather than a checks and balances God and I'm having some success but it's slow going. I wasn't raised any religion, let alone Catholic so it's strange I've adopted the concept of a punishing God. I guess I saw the opportunity to corral another's tool for self hating and jumped on the chance.

Kind of the same way I never used to have a problem with people who rode their bicycles on the sidewalk until Ebner once yelled at a guy and then turned to me. "Fucking asshole. Sidewalks are for people walking, not bikes." From that moment on I've hated people who ride bikes on the sidewalk. Thanks Mark, as if I already didn't have enough petty resentments to pray through.

Not quite as bad as when Liza left me with a ring in my hand but in that ballpark, I repeated the scene I never wanted to even once in my life let alone twice. "But you said you would take the ring back." I had said to the Hasidic Jew on 46th Street in the diamond district the morning after she said no.

"But, You already bought the ring."

"Do you think I want to be standing in front of you saying this? Before I bought it you said you would take it back if, God forbid, she said no. Well she did, okay? Now just give me my fucking money back please."

The sequel was with the chocolate bar.

"Hey, can I give you this back?"

"Ohhhhh, really? It's kind of a pain in the ass. I would have to get a manager to get the key for the register. You can freeze it you know and save it."

"That's fine." I skulked home. The chocolate bar the trophy for the most pathetic cunt on the planet who didn't just go out front right away and wait for the girl of his dreams but instead did a quick change and missed her. I got angrier and angrier as I rode the subway home. By the time I got to my building I was seething with self loathing.

"Here. It's a healthy chocolate bar." I handed it to Jake, my Serbian doorman.

"Oh, thank you Eric."

At least that thing was out of my hands and could stop mocking me.

I went upstairs and into my apartment. I was squirrelly with rage. You fucking stupid cunt!!!!! What the FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!!!!

You finally met someone you might really like and you fucked it up. And she said she hadn't been in months so you're not gonna see her again there.

I went for a walk with my friend Rebecca in Central Park to try and clear my head. I was really losing it, it having just been Xmas at all.

"Why don't you just call the yoga place and ask for her name?"

"I thought of that but it's a little sketchy, you know? I don't think they'd give that out and even if they did and I called her, she might get mad at them for giving it out and they'd get in trouble or she might just think it's weird."

"I think it's totally sexy. If you hunted me down and left me a message I'd totally go out with you."

I called the yoga center. "Fuck it." The number was ringing. I was hoping someone who liked me would answer. A couple of the girls who work the desk have crushes on me, sadly I don't return them. I was just hoping it wasn't the chick who wouldn't let me return the chocolate bar.

"Yoga Center. Hello?" I think I got lucky.

"Hey, this is Eric Schaeffer." I had no idea who had answered but we'd soon know the outcome.

"Oh hey Eric. How's it going?" She said in a really friendly voice. Jack pot.

"Great. Is this...?" I was vamping.

"Angie."

"Oh hey Angie, how's it going?"

"Great. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was actually hoping you could play cupid for me. I just took the 6:15 class and I was talking to a girl named Sasha and I really liked her but somehow she slipped out before I could get her number. Could you tell me her last name?"

"Let me look on the computer here. What did she look like?"

"Tall, dark hair, kind of an Aimee Mann face."

"I love Aimee Mann." I looked at Rebecca and gave her the thumbs up. She was excited.

"I think it's Sasha Roderick... yup, she bought one class today. I'm sure it's her."

"Sasha Roderick? Thank you so much."

"No problem, Eric. See you soon."

I hung up.

"That's awesome!" Rebecca said. I dialed information.

"Sasha Roderick. New York City, please." I waited. She had a fucking number!!! "And what's her address? 24th Street?" I said out loud for Rebecca's benefit. "Thanks." I hung up. "She lives on fucking 24th Street. Two blocks from yoga. That's why she bolted in her wet clothes. She showers at home."

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Please. How many Sashas live 2 blocks form yoga? And it's a pretty unique name. Sasha Roderick. It's definitely her!"

"Yeah. It has to be her. Call her."

"Okay. I mean, it's not like the place gave me her number. They just gave me her name. And if she's listed she can't be that weirded out and private. I mean if she's not into me fine, but I'm not gonna stalk her so she won't have a bad experience so she probably wouldn't get mad at the yoga place anyway, right?"

"No. It'll be fine. Just call."

"Okay." I pressed the number into my phone and waited as it rung. We were on the horse path next to the police station in the middle of Central Park next to the reservoir. It kept ringing... My phone is restricted so sometimes people don't answer because of that fact. A machine picked up. "Machine." I said to Rebecca. BEEEEEEP.

"Hey, so I waited out front to give you your special vegan chocolate bar birthday present but you somehow slipped out before I could. This is Eric. The boy who talked to you in yoga about how you use a pencil as a scrunchy. I wanna take you to coffees sometime. Call me." I left my number and hung up.

"That was perfect."

"It was okay?"

"Perfect."

"It was light and nice and cute and I didn't sound like a psycho, right?"

"No. You were great. I would definitely call back if I got that."

"In how long?"

"Two days... well... no. Yeah. No more than two days but definitely not the day I got it."

"Okay, But I'm not going to call again in two days if she doesn't call.

"You should."

"No, that's weird. She got it. If she's interested she'll call me back."

"What if she's shy?"

"Then I wouldn't want her. And she's not anyway. If she doesn't call, it's done."

"Okay."

I left Rebecca and went home to Google Sasha. Two pictures came up. It was her. The girl from yoga, so I was sure that the girl I had called was the girl from yoga. I didn't love that her picture was on some society news letter and in both pictures she was standing around drinking at fund raisers with young-Kennedy-meets-Euro-trash guys but I was happy I had found her. We would be dating within the day.

After the third day with no call back I was over it. I really would want my future wife to call me within an hour of getting that message, a day at the most if she had a good explanation for the delay. The most important thing was I had found her and found out that it wasn't fate. I couldn't have lived with the not knowing, the rejection was fine. Another soul mate bites the dust. Which is fine for the obvious reason that she couldn't have really been the ONE. SHE is still on her way. The subway must be slow today, or she stopped to get a smoothie on the way.

Posted by Eric Schaeffer at 1:47 PM

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