I’m 35 years old. I’m a boss at work but a hermit in life. I have no friends but have one tradition: I go to the same pub, take a seat at the very end of the bar, and drink Guinness.
On one such evening, someone suddenly covered my eyes with their hands and asked, “Guess who?“ The girl behind me realized she was mistaken, apologized, and went to the other end of the bar. She was so young, light, with eyes reminding me of two large black beads: she was different. I couldn’t think anymore, and Guinness suddenly seemed bitter.
She had been waiting for someone for all this time but in vain. Thinking I was crazy, I started thinking about how to start a conversation, but I had no good ideas. The bar was closing, and she was going to leave. I ran outside, and, because of awful weather and because she was looking so sad, I offered her a ride home.
In the car she wouldn’t stop talking — she was so…alive! I forgot to ask for her number, and it came to my mind only at home. I returned to the pub in a week, and she was there. Sitting in my place. I covered her eyes with my hands and asked, ”Guess who?” She started laughing and cried, “I thought you’d never come here!”
“Do not wait; the time will never be 'just right'. Start where you stand, and work with whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along.”
― Napoleon Hill