A Discarded Business Card

I was cleaning out my purse last night, and found a business card.  It was someone that I didn't know, so I tossed it out.

 

This moring I was digging through the trash looking for that card.  Overnight, I had remembered who it was.  The guy who I'd met in the hotel lobby when I had the disappointing rendezvous with Mr. Amazingly Gorgeous.

 

This guy had assumed (accurately so) that I was meeting someone at the hotel, yet he still had the confidence to ask me out for lunch.  Even after I declined, he'd still given me his card, and told me to call if I ever changed my mind. 

 

So what did I remember about him?  Well, let's see.  Blonde hair, blue eues, athletic build.  Attractive, smart, witty, a good conversationalist.  Well dressed, outgoing, good manners.  He'd been raised in France and at times I could detect a hint of an accent.

 

Should I call him?

 

Heck yes, I should call him.  Well, wait.  Maybe I should just send an email.  Yes, that's what I'll do, I'll send the Frenchman an email.