We met at a roadside café,

Somewhere lost among the assorted

Vagabonds of the Drag.[1]

"Hello," she said, then smiled.

Wasn't this a message in itself?

~

I approached her,

Tentatively placing my books

(Marx, Shelley, Plato)

On the end of the black, wire mesh table.

"Mind if I join you?"

I asked, nonchalantly, as if unaware

Of the implications of my words.

~

She contemplated for a while,

Then motioned her finger

Toward the empty lawn chair across from her.

She was having a Mocha with a beat-up paperback

Of Betty Fredain—truly a Mystique. [2]

~

The conversation began with the usuals,

Spouting off majors, minors, complications...

Everything went so well, until

She stood up and collected her books.

Had I said something wrong?

~

I stared quizzically at her blue eyes.

"Don't worry, I have to go."

She said,

As she pushed in her chair,

Left her glass behind,

And walked passed me.

~

"But wait," I nearly exclaimed

Perhaps in desperation.

"Can I call you?"

She turned back to me.

"I mean, we've had such a great talk and all..."

~

She placed her finger to her chin,

Contemplating once more.

"Sure, I guess so."

She research into her pocket and handed me a card

Before she quickly walked away.

~

Written in fine calligraphy were the following words:

"It was a pleasant chat, but nothing more than that.

Just wait by the phone and I'll call you—or maybe not."

When I looked up, she was gone.

I scratched my head and sighed.

Author Notes:

[1]  The Drag refers to a stretch of Guadalupe Street, which is a street filled with coffee shops, restaurants and book stores that borders the campus of the University of Texas at Austin.

[2]  Betty Fredian is the author of The Feminine Mystique, published in 1964 and considered a classic work of Feminism. In this book, Fredian argues for equality between women and men in the workplace and attempts to pick apart the stereotype of women as simply homemakers.  (And, yes! I have read this book! And, yes, I took feminist courses in college.)