He didn't walk; he glided across the room. I made sure to notice every movement his body made. Once by my side; the fun began.

         "Hello, my name is Mark. I was wondering if this dance is mine?"

        For the first time in my life, I was in love and knew it. As he walked up and greeted me, I didn't know how to express what I was thinking to this marvel of a man.

         "Hello, I said I'm Mark." He had repeated himself, and I did hear him but didn't respond. Better yet, I couldn't respond; I was entranced by him and all his charisma.

        He had a fit figure, but not skinny. Nicely built, but not bulky. If these descriptions don't make sense, I'll explain futher. Mark was in shape, but not musclebound; the type of body that could handle it's own and them some. His designer suit fitted him well; it showed the proportions of his physique. Mark was dark; not tan, dark. He's an African-American male with smooth black skin. He was what they called a "dark-skinned brotha." With a goal-tee, bald-head, pimple free complexion and glistening white teeth, he was picture perfect. He had to take time for his appearance. No doubt about it. The type of man one could find modeling some the classiest of tuxedos. No, he's the man in the Crown Royal ads.

        He had turned to walk away, because I seemed to be ignoring him. Before he would leave, I had to muster the courage to say something, anything. I responded, yes. It sounded foolish; coming out as he was leaving. My voice also squeaked. He looked at me, and I fumbled my glass to put it down and nearly stumbled in the high heels. I must have seemed clumsy to him.

        This didn't matter a bit, as he took my hand and lead the way to the dance floor. He had a wicked little grin on his face; it said that something else was on his mind. For every clumsy bone in my body, he had two agile ones. He was a pro on the dance floor. As the band played Barry White's classic "Love Unlimited" and the singer swooned to the listeners, he carried me away on an endless breeze of rhythm and romance. Once in a while and so superbly, he would whisper some of the words in my ear. Our bodies clinched closer together. I could hardly breathe; he had taken my breath away.

        Damn, the man even smelled good. Things like this only happen in novels or in the movie, now it was happening to me. I couldn't believe it. I remember everything about that moment.

        I looked at my knight in shining armor; chivalry wasn't dead. As he effortlessly lead and carried me across the dance floor, as he whispered the words in my ears with his sultry baritone voice, I knew this was the first night of the rest of my life.

        And we looked at each other, he reached over seemingly to kiss me. And slowly our heads motioned towards each other; I puckered up and closed my eyes. This has got to be a dream come true. I was just about to kiss his lucious full lips, and indulge myself of all the moisture his mouth obtained. Just then band stopped playing, and the singer stopped swooning. We stopped before we kissed.

        We looked at each other. I could read his whole life in his eyes; I saw all the man he was and could be by looking into his deep dark eyes. I stood speechless.

        He thanked me for the dance. And just as he glided into my life; he glided into the night. My dark stranger had left me; I was about to scream from the agony my heart felt.. I couldn't believe this was happening. A miracle, a dream come true had whisp in and out of my life in one song.

        The next thing I heard was someone screaming five minutes. A person was screaming five minutes over and over agian.

        It startled and woke me completely from my daze. It was my roommate, my younger sibiling, behind the chaos.

        She was bitching at me, "You have five minutes before the pizza you ordered gets here. They just called, and I been screamin for you. Didn't you hear me; what the hell you been doin?"

        I said nothing. "I must have dosed off, I'm sorry. Let me get up and get the pizza." I slipped on my shoes and headed for the elevator down the hall way. We live in a secured building, and I'd have to let in the pizza person.

        All the way down the 24 floors to the lobby, I thought about the man in my dreams. I remembered the way he looked, way he moved and even smelled. It all seemed so real.

        I wished I knew more about him, where could you find a man like that. I thought it would be lovely, but knew it only happens in novels and in the movies.

        As I went to the door, I knew the pizza person wasn't a dream come true. They were five minutes late with my pizza. I was thinking, a good dream was interupted for this. That pizza better not be cold.

        Just then a familiar voice whispered Miss Jones? Are you Miss Tara Jones, I have your order from Burns' Pizza and Pasta?

        I looked out the door and wiped my eyes, the face seemed familiar, somehow, but I had never seen him before. "I said, yeah I'm Miss Jones and you're late!" As I moved towards the door to open it, I almost fell. I caught myself on the door handle. I was able to push the door open, and the pizza man caught me in his arms.

        He said, "I hope this makes up for my tardiness." Of course, he said this as he was chuckling.

        His arms did feel safe and secure; he seemed kind and gentle. There was definitely something familiar about him, and I hadn't looked at him. That's when the smell struck my memory. That was Mark's cologne, and I wanted to see if it was him. As I raised up, the only thing I could see was his name tag. Brown Man. I was relieved. Two slips in the same night would have been disasterous for my ego. The first in my dreams, and not with this pizza man.

         "Miss Jones you're total is 9.98 without a tip." Brown Man's voice made me stop and pay complete attention.

        I finally looked at his face, and it was Mark This was the man from my dreams. I was speechless yet again. The dimensions, the eyes, the physique everything was just like it was in the dream. He even had on the same smell good as he did in the dream, but this was too unusual. I wouldn't believe it was the same person. I refused to beleive it was the same person. But still, who else could this be.

        I held my tongue, so I wouldn't reveal my dream. No corny lines like deja vu, haven't I seen you before or you look familiar would come from my mouth.

        I handed the man all the money in my hand, and he said, Chill! He was putting the money in his pocket. A powerful urge of curiosity took over me. Before he left out of my life again, I had to know his name. It was killing me not knowing, and so I asked, "What is your name?"

        In the same sultry voice that made me fall in love in my dream he purred, "My friends call me Brown Man, because I'm kinda dark. But my real name in Marquis Brown. Nice to meet you, Tara."

        We exchanged pleasantries. I told him about myself; how I'm 23 and live with my younger sister and work for the public relations office at the community college. He revealed to me that this is his nighttime gig; he's a disk jockey at a small club uptown.

        Damn, he looked good. Complexion was a little darker, a white delivery uniform will do that. But whether he was dress up, playing music or in a delivery suit, he was fine. And he would always be my Mark. I knew now, I was about to receive a few more orders from Burns' Pizza and Pasta, and ask for the Brown Man to deliver it.

        We shook hands and said our goodbyes. I shook as we went our separate ways. I hit the button for the elevator, and heard his voice. This time it was in more causual sense. Brown Man was back.

         "I don't usually do this, but keep your tip. I have a feeling I'll get a chance to earn it from you another time. Chill!"

        I quickly retorted, "You can earn it this Friday night, by bringing something else by." After that, I recited the first part of my phone number for him, and playfully said, "See if you can get the rest. 8 o'clock."

         "8 o'clock. It's a date and I'll make it special for you. It'll be hot, soft, thick, stuffed, moist and more importantly, on time." Brown Man purred yet again, and he hit me with the same wicked smile I saw in my dream. It stunned me.

        After the smiled and he turned away, I could hardly breathe. He had taken my breath away again. Mark had a knack for that.

        Now, I have something to look forward to on Friday nights. I have a date with Brown Man, my dream and a pizza pie. These are the things movies and novels are made of. Maybe, I'll just jot this down...

FIN.......for now!!