Travel Infatuation

When I travel, for some reason, I am extremely susceptible to infatuation. I don't know whether it is the stimulation of a new location, or the non-threatening nature of these situations since nothing could come of it. Independent of all the self-crippling psycho analysis the result is the same. At some unexpected point, I will notice some small thing that will attract my attention. As I look up at the person, instantaneous infatuation sets in. Obsession and sexual tension put together and mixed to a froth. Good gravy do I have it bad now. I am in San Diego and was in line at a grocery store buying Diet Pepsi; I swear Coke must own the west coast. I noticed the person in front of me had placed a bottle of wine, a single piece of sword fish, a half gallon of skim milk, flour onto the conveyer belt. The person was single, relaxed, had good taste, was comfortable enjoying life, took care of themself, and best of all could cook. Very sexy. I looked up. Blond hair, black shirt, khaki shorts all hung on a beautifully shaped frame. I was hooked. I quickly checked out and watched the San Diego infatuation walk down the street and around the corner. Now I'm here alone in my hotel room wanting nothing more than to be in that apartment.