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# Strawberry jam: Date with destiny disturbed
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/strawberry-jam-date-with-destiny-disturbed/
- Published: 2005-08-05T15:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-25T00:31:06.000Z
- Author: Guest Author
- Tags: Opinion, Santa Monica, #archive-import, Homeless

*By SUSAN ANN CONNOR*

I was shuffling CDs, attempting to find a matching melody for meeting Mr. Strawberry. Sweet, but not too mushy. Not that my eyes weren’t concentrated on the road, but my car sort of drove itself the two miles to Starbucks. By the time I settled on “Lou Rawls’ Christmas,” my car was in the parking lot.

Look, I was nervous. I just hadn’t felt this kind of chemistry in a while. And I hate first dates. Not that this was a date. I dared not call it that for fear of slipping into another psyche spin-cycle. And, honestly, I’m rather used to being single. I’ve grown accustomed to my face and accepted its flaws.

Alrighty then. Deep breath. No big deal. Don’t have to marry him. You’re only having a caffeine stimulant. Maybe a little cake.

Now, get out of the car. Do I absolutely have to? GET out of the car please. OUTTA THE CAR!

Bolting out of my vehicle and refusing another neurotic thought, I held my head high and focused on my destination. Flip, flip, flip went the sound of my sandals. Only I heard their rhythmic flipping. I became so one with the flipping, that I didn’t see the crack in the sidewalk.

“Ooops. Careful,” said a homeless person sitting on the curb.

I’d tripped, but I didn’t fall. However, I did look around to see what might have caused the crack... and if Strawberry had witnessed my lack of coordination.

He hadn’t. Because... “there he was just a-walkin’ down the street, singin’ ‘Do wah diddy-diddy-down-diddy-do.’ Snappin’ his fingers and shufflin’ his feet.” No, I jest. He wasn’t singin’, snappin’ or shufflin’. He was just walkin’ tall and lookin’ good. Oh my.

I arrived at the entrance a moment after him. He smiled when he finally saw me. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I said shyly. Geez. “Nice to see you again.” “Nice to see you.” Really nice.

Opening the door, he asked what I wanted to drink. “You sit down, and I’ll bring it over to you.”

He then proceeded to walk me to the table and pull out the chair. This time I almost did fall.

“Thanks,” I said, stunned. OK. Charming. Very sweet, Mr. Strawberry.

When he returned with my requested green tea, his capa-frappa-something and luscious lemon cake, I knew it was show-time. But I was seriously tongue-tied.

“This July’s June gloom sure is gloomy,” I observed. Ughhh, that was a pathetic opening line. But he laughed. He thought I was being funny.

We sipped and commented on cake. Somewhere around the third bite, our chatting began to flow. Perhaps it was the politics. I mentioned how I wanted more women on the Supreme Court. He agreed. Another point for Strawberry.

“Did you know,” he said with concern, “that of 185 countries with National Parliaments, the U.S. ranks 61st in the percentage of women in office?” I just shook my head.

This was all going pretty well, when he abruptly excused himself. I saw him huddling over by the straws, on his cell. Odd. When he returned, he apologized and told me he had to leave right away. No explanation.

Great. I walked out two minutes later, disappointed. I didn’t even finish the cake.

As I reached my car, I saw Strawberry running toward me. The guy ran funny. His pants jingled. But it didn’t matter. I was standing in my flippers thinking we all have to overlook some things. And I may have to overlook his running style.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, panting. “My phone vibrated. It was my ex-wife. There’s still some issues. Would you have dinner with me next week, even with issues?”

Issues. Good old issues. I figured he was cute enough to find out what they are. So, it was yes for dinner.... Suzy and Strawberry sittin’ in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes... then comes... ah, think I’ll stop here. My pitch is getting out of range. Lalalala.... (Susan Ann Connor)

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on August 5, 2005.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/080505.pdf?ref=smdp.com)