The odds

I wish I could turn my T-dar off.

OK, maybe not.

I’ve mentioned it before, but there is this almost instant bond between many T’s. It’s a life connection that exists between similar souls. Sure, we come in all different flavors, but there is something...like two ships lost at sea in a turbulent storm...that can cause many of us to hold on tight to each other.

This past Friday, my company decided that I needed to assist a colleague in Chicago this week. Sure, there is a technical aspect to this, but I almost feel like I am babysitting.

Babysitting.

At least they pay me well...and I won’t have to change diapers. Well, I hope not, at least.

Eastward travel, though, makes it difficult to get in and get out fast...so, I’m flying in today for work on Wednesday and Thursday, before flying back home Thursday evening.

OK, I’ll admit it...I’m a big people watcher. As I was in line to check in my suitcase, I saw a woman. She had nice calves. Too nice. She looked nice, and I doubt I would have seen the other signs had I not seen her calves.

Yeah, she was T. Wide shoulders, brow ridge, no hips, no femme waist, although she had a decent figure that no one would likely suspect. I thought I saw a little 5 o’clock shadow, too. I forgot to look for the apple, but there were too many other indicators. I don’t think anyone else around her knew as there were a number of guys chatting her up...which wasn’t surprising with the short dress she had on.

If I see one T, I wouldn’t typically expect to see another out in the “plain world”. The odds, you know.

Further down the terminal, though, I spot this punk rock girl. She was short and had spiky hair. She looked good, but something caught my eye. I wasn’t sure exactly, but certain facial features just set off the radar. I think what really did it for me was her jaw bone. Yeah, yeah, I know there are plenty of women with strong jaw bones, but her’s was just a bit too strong.

OK, so how can there be two other T’s in my terminal. The odds, remember?

Hmm...well, let’s think. It’s Tuesday.

Tuesday.

The day before Wednesday. The day after Monday.

Monday.

Oh wait.

Dr. O has most of his consults on Monday. Both of the girls looked great, outside a little facial work, which likely would have taken them off my radar. Hmm...maybe they were here to see Dr. O yesterday and were just heading home today. That’s gotta be it.

Well, anyway, they both looked great, and I’m sure no one else even noticed what I noticed.

Open ocean. Sunny skies. Three ships pass.

And everything seemed OK.