I've never had a specific type of person that I'm attracted to. And generally, if someone has a nice personality, the more I get to know them, the more I'm attracted to them, no matter what they look like. So I'm not nervous about being attracted to Cal. I already know that he has the most wonderful personality of any man I've met in so long. It's 7.40 now, and I'm standing in the area in front of my booth, looking one way and then the other, making eye contact with the attendees still milling around. None of them give me any spark of recognition. They are definitely not Cal. My phone rings in my pocket and I jolt, scrambling for it and scampering back into the safety of my booth. It's Cal. Hi. – Hey. – Are you here? – Yup, I'm standing right outside the entrance. Wow. Oh my gosh. Okay, once you come through the entrance, just look to the left about 40 feet and you'll see my booth next to the kombucha stand. You'll know it's mine because I'll be standing in the middle of it. – Do you have people in your booth right now? – Nope. It's actually been pretty empty all day. – I'm not interrupting. – Nope. – So I should just come in? – Definitely. Post haste. I'm going to keel over from nerves if you don't. Wait, let me spit my gum out.
Prekladam to dobre? jolt – škubnout (sebou), scrambling for – (vy)štrachat se pro to scampering – pelášim zpet