I am used to this routine already. It began to define me. I wake up every day, wash my face, brush my teeth, shower, get dressed, take a jog around my place, and then head to my favorite café shop for breakfast. Except today was so different. She was there. Two tables in front of me, she was just glowing. She had a hair lock around her left index and a book that I swear looked familiar in her right hand. Such beauty was perplexing. I needed to approach.

"Do you mind if I joined you?" I said with a smile.

"Now I'm expected to say not at all, although I really would mind. But if I turned you down, people will be staring at me and whispering about what a bitch I turned out to be. And you will probably go to work with a broken, humiliated heart, and, when asked, you will say a rude girl made a scene out of your poor emotions and blah blah blah... actually women from work will offer to take you out just to mend that broken heart of yours. So to save my day and your dignity, I would say you're welcome to join," she replied effortlessly, with a smile that warms a polar bear's heart. I took the seat across her, although she made it obvious I was intruding. Who am I to resist that face? And although I was supposed to feel humiliated after such a speech, but god knows it only nailed me more.

Her eyes went back to her book that I now recognize as Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. Now if I tell her that this is a book I admire, she will probably tell me that I'm choosing a lame way to hit on a girl, but I really like this book.

"In what part are you now?" I asked before I could get a hold on my tongue.

Her eyes left the page slowly, and she sighed softly, dropping her book on the table.

"Please don't waste our time. I will end up tired of how hard it is to explain myself to you, and you will end up thinking I'm a crazy woman, who broke your heart on purpose. I really can see how this goes. So save the struggle, please."

"You don't even know me yet. Why write down that whole scenario, when you know nothing about me. I'm Richard. Richard Wills." I said, hoping she would recognize the name.

"You won't give up. Will you?"

"See let's have a chat. You set the rules. You decide the topics. And you choose to agree on going on a date with me or not. Just give it a try."

"A date? You know how to sum up things don't you? Brief and to the point."

"So do we have a deal?"

"What do you do for living, Richard?"

"I design. Watercrafts, vessels, boats, ships, or whatever you call it. And for your info, I'm the best in the field," I said with a wink that I hoped I won't regret.

"In an organization or alone?"

"No, I am a freelancer. I like to be my own boss."

"I see. Well tell me more about yourself."

"I come from a small city called Dublin. It's a suburb of Columbus; I bet you know that already. I moved to New York two years ago. I own a house two blocks from here. And I'm single." Another wink.

"Interesting. But why did you leave Dublin?"

"Work. I left it for a specific job, but then I liked it here. And then I decided to stay. And to be honest, I have nothing to look back to. Both my parents died in a car crash, and my sister lives in Morocco with her husband and twelve years old daughter. And I wasn't really a social kid at school, so no friends to care for. I lived by myself. Even now. I never really had real friends that I can rely on or look for. I hang out with people, when I feel like it though."

"These last two lines. I think we're starting to connect. Loner is the term. We're loners."

"If you say so."

"Okay, I think that was a good talk. Have a nice day."

She grabbed her purse and book, after leaving some money. I was planning to pay for her breakfast, but there was no time for chivalry. I had to ask her out.

"So where do you want to eat tonight?" I said, trying to keep up with her pace.

"What's the point of all this? I once told you this won't work. You asked for a chat, and I gave you that. Now don't waste your time, and go find another girl."

"Now I tell you how this goes. You break my heart, and I go home feeling down. I spend the entire week, thinking of how great this date would've went, if you said yes. I get allergic around pretty girls and feel rejected. I continue to be a loner. Forever." I used her technique, because that was the only thing that came to mind. I need to see her again. I have to.

"You can't understand me. No one can. After that date you will understand what I mean. So why all that effort? This is doomed."

"I am different. I promise. I won't pressure you. You don't have to explain anything to me. Just try."

"You think it's easy? It's not. Do you even know my name? You don't. And yes, that was on purpose. The thing is, my name feels so private to me. It specializes me. Makes me labeled. Identified. And I believe that something with such powers should be classified to the owner, unless he or she decides to share it with someone just as important. Now if you asked me how I came up with such philosophy, I would also say that's classified, since it's just as private. Do you think you can handle that?"

Long silence. How can she be so gorgeous even when she's babbling with all that nonsense? So perfect. Damn it. I just want to see her again. I really do. And then again. And again. And again. And in an infinite loop I go on.

"Yes. Deal. No name, no problem. I know I can make you trust me with it later. And I promise I won't pressure you on this. So, where should we meet?"

She looked startled with my persistence. I am startled myself. Since when were I that clingy?

"Do you fancy lobsters?"

And I smiled. Seems like I finally won. Wink. Wink.

We agreed to meet at eight in a pretty famous restaurant. I couldn't wait.