Enter Maurice (a love story, part 1)

The story assignment this time is to capture reaction to the smoking ban 24 hours after its start. I run into a few dead ends so I decide to try the Elks Club. The parking lot is always full there.
As I pull in, I find the parking lot - to my surprise - empty. I suppose it is 3 p.m. on a Monday, who will be drinking now?

I find my way into the private lounge (which isn't as skeezy as it sounds: more retro, complete with white linens covering the tables, brassy gold chandeliers and a mirrored wall reminiscent of the early 60's). In the corner near the bar I find a waitress still clearing tables from lunch. Hi, my name is Sarah and I'm from the Avonlea Tribune. I begin to ask her a few questions: Has she seen a dip in business in the last 24 hours due to the smoking ban? What are some of the reactions she has heard?

A few minutes into the conversation, a beautiful man with rich chocolate skin and a tight T-shirt effectively showcasing his biceps walks into the room. I feel like a teenager in a movie: my jaw drops and my eyes follow him as he wipes his hands dry with a white cotton towel. His shirt reads "Le Cordon Bleu Culinary Institute" over his left pec. His warm brown eyes welcome me and he stops over to see what the waitress and I are discussing.

His name is Maurice and he is from Minneapolis, where they underwent a smoking ban just a year ago. Maurice is a chef and was working in a restaurant during the Minneapolis smoking ban, so I feel he has interesting insight on the topic.

I completely ignore the waitress (who is still talking about grumbling patrons frustrated they can't light up inside) and begin to question Maurice. He shares his thoughts on the effects of a smoking ban in small-town Minnesota, but soon our conversation turns more personal.

We talk about what brings him to Avonlea (he hopes to "save" the Elks from closing) and why I am in town (for the newspaper job). I learn he was recently given the number for my coworker and he is supposed to call her for a date. I decide that is unacceptable: he should call me for a date instead.

I write my cell number on the back of my business card and slide it across the bar as I insist he call me. He writes his name and number on a cocktail napkin. It feels like a scene from 1950's film noir. Is this really happening?

Maurice walks me out the door. We continue to talk about books and politics and everything else that comes to mind as we sit on the stoop outside the restaurant. After half an hour I realize I am still on the clock and politely end the conversation. I encourage him to give me a call as we shake hands. I get in my car as calmly as I can, then proceed to squeal with delight the entire drive back to the newsroom. I met a guy! And in li'l ol' Avonlea, of all places!

Back at work I immediately rush to Michelle's desk, who happens to waitress part-time at the Elks. Michelle promptly informs me Maurice is 42 with 3 kids. This will be interesting, since I was under the impression he was in his mid-30s and childless (though under my own assumptions).

What am I getting myself into?

Getting Started

For my first entry, I wanted to share some of my favorite literary quotes in an attempt to inspire me.

"Genius creates and taste preserves. Taste is the good sense of genius; without taste, genius is only sublime folly." - Alexander Pope

"There are no laws for the novel. There never have been, nor can there ever be." - Doris Lessing

"As soon as coffee is in your stomach, there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move... Similes arise... The paper is covered. Coffee is your ally and writing ceases to be a struggle." - Honore de Balzac

"Good writers are those who keep the language efficient. That is to say, keep it accurate, keep it clear." - Ezra Pound

"What romantic terminology called genius or talent or inspiration is nothing other than finding the right road empirically, following one's nose, taking shortcuts." - Halo Calvino