There used to be a really neat little piano bar/restaurant across from Belle Isle in Detroit. Pinky's. My first husband and I used to go there a lot. I used to wear some slinky, silky dress and perch on a stool sipping Rusty Nails and enjoying the music. There was a man that was frequently there. He was the spitting image of Stacey Keech. I don't recall his name, but I saw a commercial for an old movie with Keech in it and I remembered this man. He was about 3 dozen years older than I was. He had movie star appeal and a gentle way of making me feel like the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. He was never creepy or inappropriate. I could nearly imagine what it would be like to hob nob with celebrity when I was around him. Witty banter, subtle sultry looks, a kiss on the hand good night. I miss meeting people like that. Bigger than life. Most of all, I'm glad that all I had was the occasional glimpse so that 22 years later I can think of him and smile with pretty memories.