One door closes and another re-opens

When One Door Opens Up Another one Open Up Wide… Literally

When I met Mr. NYC Moroccan, it was on Cinco De Mayo in 2011.  I went to one of my favorite places of New York-Lincoln Center.  Each week they had a new international flavor coming through town. And that week the musicians were from Morocco.

I had attended with the Moroccan guy I was seeing at the time.   He was an Engineer for the airlines, cute face, nice smile, and incredibly sweet and attentive with a bit of edge and mild sex appeal. We had been seeing each other for only a couple weeks and I invited him to the Moroccan concert

Side note: He brought a picnic basket with a bottle of wine and some fruit in case we changed our mind to go the park (these are the guys I somehow always drop).

We were sitting and enjoying the concert-the unique sounds coming from the various instruments-the singers were Berber giving it a traditional Berber influence.  I had drank a lot of water and really had to go the bathroom. I tried my best to wait because I never like getting up in the middle of performances. I waited until the intermission and boy am I glad.  I went upstairs to the bathroom, which was a unisex one. I was wearing my favorite dark colored guess jeans, a beige silk top, gold DKNY rain jacket, and gold strappy shoes. 

When I exited the bathroom, the elevator doors opened and there he was-a tall, beautiful dark hair, tan skin wearing a white cotton lose fitted shirt and jeans.  We both sat for a minute just staring at each other and then we finally got our words together.  He asked where the bathroom was and I caught my breathe to tell him it was behind me. He exited the elevator, I entered, and just sat staring out into his eyes as the doors closed.  I went back downstairs and sat in my seat next to Simil and I just kept thinking about this man I just saw-he was someone I always imagined myself with in my dreams- a tall, beautiful Moroccan- and there he was at Lincoln center.  How was I going to get connected with this guy if I was on a date with Said? 

The show had ended and the band was signing autographs.  With our eyes gravitating towards one another from across the room, we both had some serious interest in one another. I told Said I was going to the band to get an autograph on my flier.  As I stood there, my Moroccan came up next to me and said hello. He whispered, “Give me your number.” And I quietly gave it to him without Said noticing what was going on-smooth operator-smooth operator ha.

And that is how Mr. NYC Casa came into Priscilla’s life, a lot of lies, a lot of false promises, but just something about him that drives me crazy(the romantic gene set off).  That night he called me and we talked for hours. It felt like a dream come true, but it turned out to be far from it with his game playing.

Mild salsa vs. Extra Spicy(The extra spicy always seems to wind up the winner in my book)