Let's Do This.

Next time I see this woman of my dream I'm gonna walk up to her straight up and break into a song, Kuch Kuch Hotai Hey, or Grease Lightnin'. I am gonna do the dance, the swirl and the twirl spinning like a top so fast the world around me will flash in a blur until I got really dizzy with lovin', jump on the gondola to sing a few lines of the song from this vantage position, and then roll down to land on the trolley pushed from behind by three chorus girls in the supermarket uniform, their hair all done up in the 50s style complete with cats' eye glasses. They've got pastel color skirts with matching shoes and bright nail polish, fiery red lipsticks on.

The whole of Tesco wil turn into an elaborate stage performance with downlights flooding the entire floor area into a luminous riot of colors, making me look no better than someone who has survived an accidental dip into a vat of paint, the kind you use to add life to an otherwise mono-color lollipop. Or a clown suit.

Half way into a song, I go over to this woman of my dream to take her hand. She will refuse at first, playing hard to get. I look into her big brown eyes. Her eyelashes flickering like SOS blinkers of a ship going down in a storm. I roll on the floor like Dewey of Malcom In The Middle. She walks slowly towards the main door. I get up to stretch my arm as far as it can go. She stops midway. Turns to look at me and comes running into my arms.

I gotta do this or else I'm going crazy.