Bless him

January 9, 2003

the boy at the coffeehouse wore a knit cap and a plaid shirt. he worked studiously on an old-skool ibook, shaking his right leg. a nervous habit. a twitch. an endearing one.

when i sneezed, a sneeze that shook the table and bounced off the walls, he turned, looked me straight in the eye and said “bless you.” then he smiled.

“thank you,” i swooned.

without warning, i sneezed again. by this point, polite boy had moved to a friend’s table on the other side of the coffeehouse. he turned and smiled again. “bless you.”

i shouldn’t admit this, but the rest of the time i sat there, i mindlessly doodled in my sketchbook, read the same paragraph 20 times, and tried so hard to make myself sneeze again.

it didn’t work.


  • I'm Christine, and this is a slice of my life—a sweet, rich, wildly indulgent slice that would taste really good with a scoop of Breyers vanilla bean ice cream. Read more >>

  • I run a darling, friendly, little graphic design studio.
    I look on the bright side.
    I take photos. Lots of photos.
    I wish on stars and on websites.

  • I built my first web site 7 years ago and got 15 seconds of fame. (It changed my life.)
    I launched, then relaunched, an online magazine.
    I admitted to several embarrassing crushes.
    I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.

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