Awaitingly Yours

Dear Executive Chef at Oyster Box Hotel in Durban, South Africa,

I don't know if you remember me. We met 3 months ago at South African Food Festival in which you were the guest chef. We didn't just meet and go. Instead, we met (no, I spotted you from afar first then told a colleague how gorgeous you were); I walked up to you and asked about some stupid things, which I didn't even understand what you were saying, for I was too bewitched, bothered, and bewildered with your smile, eyes, lips, streaks of grey hair, and everything about the handsome you; then you sat in front of me; we talked all through the night and forgot about the other so-called food writers sitting around us.

Until I really had to go.

Had I not had a flight to catch the morning after to my next adventure trip, maybe we could sneak outside, went to the swimming pool and enjoyed the gentle night breeze while sipping a glass of South African dry shiraz. Then maybe either one of us, or even both of us at the same time, would try to hold each other's hands. You didn't know how much I had always wanted to hold your hand in mine all night! I wouldn't mind a little kiss. Okay, deep, wet kisses with lots of tongue actions would be nice, too.

Perhaps you would invite me up to your room. For a little nightcap, you would probably say. But we all knew what that phrase meant.

Then maybe we just ended up being a one night affair. But maybe not. Since I liked you so much already. Long before I buried myself underneath your blanket.

You have to know that after I returned from my trip, I really wanted to go back to that hotel to see you one last time before you left. But I didn't make it. I felt so ugly after my wild adventure. I came back with a little too much tan and bruises here and there. I figured you didn't want to see that girl.

I still think about you sometimes. I do. And that doesn't happen to me everyday, especially with those I have only met once.

Anyway, please reply soon. If you haven't forgotten me, of course. If you had, but then you vaguely remembered me after reading this. If you had secretly wished to see me again after that night. If you ever thought we could be more than just a food writer interviewing a guest chef.

Awaitingly yours,
the girl who finds you irresistible