Page 1 of The Attraction File

ONE

Evaleen

October 31st

Love was essential for human life.

But let’s be realistic. Ask any psychologist, or better yet, ask any cardiologist if love began in the heart and they would say no. Love was a concept of the mind that never actually touched the heart.

That was fact.

Most people would rather hear the emotion spoken to them in a flowery idiom rather than understand the meaning of the words. I was not most people. Action was love, not sentiment. Action that held respect, understanding, and a willingness to risk everything. Something that was hard and perhaps risky, but worth it in the end.

Call me romantic but facts don’t lie.

Love was not a Sasquatch groping me while waiting in line. It wasn’t even flirting. It was everything I hated about how men thought they could do anything they wanted to women.

Hairs on the back of my head rose as I stiffened. “Remove your bear paw from my ass.” I said through gritted teeth. With tremendous restraint, I turned from facing the very large back of the unusually hairy blonde woman in front of me ordering coffee to face the fur-covered creature behind me.

He held up his brown fur hands in surrender and my rapid heartbeat eased. The bear paw was attached to a very sweaty, slightly dough-faced man holding a large fur covered mask in his right hand. “I’m Chewbacca.”

Why do men believe touching a woman inappropriately was something she desired?

Despite folding my arms and glaring at him in warning, he relaxed his posture. “As you can see I am not a Wookie. I am a real human being from Earth. Here on this planet, we don’t grope people we have never met as it’s against the law.” I paused and glared to make my point.

I continued, “Since you are from Kashyyyk, you should know this if you are going to wait in line at a coffee shop.”

His thin lips curled at the corner from my statement. “Are you a Star Wars purist too?”

“No, I’m a woman,” I said as I smirked right back at him and narrowed my eyes. “A woman standing in line, waiting for a grown man dressed in a fur costume to leave her alone so she can order her coffee in peace.”

Turning back, I noticed the blonde woman, her sweater stretched thin due to her thick muscles, ordering at the counter was still there. How much longer was this towering woman, in a brown plaid skirt, going to take? I had an interview in less than thirty minutes and was running out of time to get my caffeine boost.

I thought for a moment about tapping her on the shoulder to ask her to hurry up. But based on her shape I figured she was a body builder or, at least, worked out a lot, and may not take too kindly to being told to move along.

I heard the fur man pipe up behind me and was thankful his fur hands were not on my body this time. “I am the original 1970s’ Chewbacca, not the current Disney version.”

A headache bloomed with each word out of his mouth. I wished in that moment the coffee gods would take pity on me and push the woman at the counter aside so I could order my drink.

“Because it’s Halloween, we get to dress up at my work.”

I tilted my head to the side and yelled back at him, “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Chewie.”

“So, there is a Halloween happy hour after work today. I don’t know if you work around here, but I would love it if you joined me. I have a Princess Leia costume at home. I can run and grab it for you if—”

I turned back to end this conversation. “Listen, Chewie—”

“Albert. My name is Albert.” He leaned closer and wrinkled his forehead in such a way that made it obvious he was fishing for my name. He can keep on fishing because that was on a need-to-know basis. My mother always said, “Evaleen Bechmann, you are being paranoid,” but in the age of the Internet, giving him my name could be as powerful as giving him a knife.

In a way, I felt bad for Chewie-Albert. The poor guy obviously never learned how to deal with a woman. He believed groping me and refusing to take the hint that I didn’t want to go out with him was normal. And that’s just sad he’s so oblivious.

“Okay, Albert. You seem like a nice, if not, handsy Star Wars . . . purist. You got a killer costume that any other Star Wars purist of the female species would love—”

“I hear ya.” He winked, nodding as his eyes perused my form.

Sighing, I realized in that moment the Wookie wasn’t getting it. I shouldn’t be surprised, every man I had met hadn’t gotten it. They touched and they took, but they didn’t understand. That’s why I avoided them. Preferring to remain alone.

“I am not that female, Albert. I am the type of female who chooses to not dress in fur costumes, or skimpy princess costumes, or costumes in general. This female just likes to stand in a line and be left alone. So, good luck finding your princess, but I am as far from a princess as you will find around here.”

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