He went everyday to the museum to see those dark beaming eyes, that long lustrous hair and her half unsure smile.
On or off his meds, this manic routine had by now had become a fixture of his life.
Oh sure, there was always some artsy liberal couple on a first date talking about such nonsense as Warhol and color blocking to ruin his time with her.
But they were superficial.
Someday somehow he knew he'd meet his exotic beauty and take her here -- but not to utter Warhol.
Until then, though, he'd be content and diligent just staring at her staring at him.
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