Sometimes life is full of opportunity. While Jessie and Jo headed out of town to test their endurance and strength in a triathlon, Cara and I packed our overnight bags and took the opportunity to partake in a couple days of fun and relaxation in Santa Monica. To say the weekend was perfect would be an understatement. One thing that Cara and I share is an appreciation for good food. Burgers, beer, and sweet potato fries at Father’s Office, Italian coffee and pastries at Caffe Luxxe, wine and dessert at Bodega, paninis on Main. We also spent the weekend coveting items in various retail locations: dresses in Anthropolgie, shoes in Steve Madden, coats in Club Monaco, everything in Zara. And what perfect weekend would be complete without the perfect movie? The Science of Sleep was everything it should be: creative, beautiful, well-acted, funny, sad, introspective. And the company found in our favorite Santa Monica resident, Lisa K, was superb.
The story of the weekend, however, occured during our final minutes in Santa Monica. Cara and I had spent a few minutes sitting on the beach, enjoying the people, the sun, the waves, the little shells scattered in the sand. We wanted a picture. Usually asking someone to take a photo is not that big of a deal. However, the camera in our possession happened to be Cara’s vintage polaroid. A black, mammoth of a camera...a far cry from the tiny, compact, silver digital variety people are accustomed to today. We asked a lady on the beach, who snapped it before either of us was really ready. Soon it was time to return to the car. Our meter was going to expire.
As we headed up the beach toward the parking, Cara and I chatted about future weddings. Who knows how it came up, but Cara was sharing her idea of an old photo booth at the reception, and old polaroid cameras on the tables. As we approached the bike path we decided to take one final picture and looked around for someone to take it. I saw a man with a shaved head and aviator sunglasses walking towards us. I reached for the camera, and turned to wait for him to approach, but he had already arrived in our path. Cara grabbed the camera, held it out, and asked the man if he could take our picture. As soon as the tall, board short clad man opened his mouth Cara and I could not stop smiling. He had a British accent! Now anyone who knows me, knows I am a fan of the British. But Cara for one, puts me to shame in that category. Now, as if the accent weren’t enough, the good-looking guy starts exclaiming how great the camera is. He was thrilled and excited. As Cara and I stepped back, smiling from ear to ear, he snapped the picture. He handed the camera back to Cara and walked away.
As soon as he was a few steps away, I turned to Cara and said, “You need to give him your number. Get a pen, write your number on this polaroid, and give it to him.” Cara refused. I insisted. She was too embarrassed. I asked her what she had to lose. He was cute, British, loved her camera. And weren’t we just talking about polaroid cameras at her wedding? It felt like a sign. I had almost convinced Cara to go after him. Unfortunately, mystery-Brit happened to be the fastest walker in the history of the world. He was already a speck in the horizon. But I knew this was fate. I was determined for this man to have Cara’s number. So we got in my car and drove down every side street along the beach trying to find him. After we ended up on PCH, headed toward Malibu, I decided it was a lost cause. This fairy tale, unfortunately, does not have a happy ending.
One last part of our weekend. Driving home, Cara and I were giddy from too much fun. We went back in time to the days of childhood when tunnels meant wishes if you held your finger on a screw and held your breath. As we drove through the tunnels on the 110, holding our breaths, fingers pressed to the shiny metal (driving slowly in traffic no less), and wishing, I realized I had ruined my wish. Somehow, with the breath holding, the driving, the traffic, the tunnel, I’d forgotton the essential ingredient: the wish. I guess that makes a missed opportunity for me and Cara.
