There’s a chill in the air. And it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas… everywhere you go. A little bit of skin is sexy so all the extra bundled up layers makes me feel like I’m coming down with a case of the blahs. I’m beginning to realize that I date less in colder temperatures — maybe it’s a coincidence?

I’m also a workaholic. So it’s a rare occurrence that I go out for lunch, but every-once-in-awhile the fish tacos are calling my name. I head out to the corner taco joint, and patiently wait for my togo order at the nearest open table by the ready counter. Business bread walks past me once, then twice. On the third pass he casually asks if he could share the table — we immediately launch into conversation. He offers me his chips & salsa! Score!

My number is called over the loud speaker. But I ordered my food togo! I couldn’t think of a single plausible reason on how I could take my togo box and sit back down with business bread for lunch. Because…what if he was just a normal friendly boy that liked conversation? What if I overstep his invisible boundaries? But rules were meant to be broken…I should have flashed my megawatt killer smile and said, “Yea…I’d like your salsa all over my chips.” But I get cold feet too.