The thing about Jerusalem is you’re bound to run into someone you know at some point.
And by "you" I mean, "me."
Which is another way of saying, while waiting for the bus the other day, the gentleman who walked by and then parked himself right behind me and who looked suspiciously like the gentleman in the States who had once stolen my heart, was no doubt the very same man.
And the leggy redhead by his side?
I didn’t want to know. I hid beneath my wide brimmed hat until the bus came and then jumped aboard.
Because even though I had long moved on from this particular man, I just couldn’t endure another "kiss-kiss, hello-hello, this is the love of my life, sorry it wasn’t you, babe," interaction.
Especially when I don’t have a leggy redhead by my side to soften the blow.
But merely glimpsing this dude after all this time brought me back to how he once made my heart go pitter-pat – mostly because he was a dead ringer for Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie (as Michael Dorsey, not Dorothy Michaels, you silly goose).
Remember that green army jacket? Ah, Dustin! So cute and short and perfect with his feathered hair!
Where was I?
Oh, yes. Tootsie. I can’t believe that movie came out 28 years ago!
I remember seeing it in the theater with my dear friend, RF. We loved that movie, RF and I. And I believe she even had a Tootsie birthday party.
Well, I will spare you my opinions about the Terri Garr character and its implications for women worldwide.
Which is another way of saying, who’s going to shut me up and bring over a copy of Tootsie so that we, and Mr. Trevor "the Dog" Pickus, can sit back and enjoy?
And when that’s done, we can watch Annie Hall.
After all, memory lane is good as long as it does not involve dredging up men who once passed me by.