Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Disobedient feet

Another week was almost finished, another week the same as the last, and perhaps the same as the week to come. Something of life had been lost, but what--and when? When had I last felt really alive, like there was a vast horizon opening up before me? Now I feel…well…stretched like an elastic band connected back to…. when? Darn! I can't even tell anymore. Even the seasons seem to drag by more slowly, lingering without any significant signposts to look forward to or to fear.

In the bank on payday, I saw too many people. Why were they all here? I took my place in line behind a man. He wore a company work shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing his well-defined muscles. He was more than a full head taller than me, with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. While we waited, he glanced around and fidgeted as if he wished to be anywhere but here. I laughed silently at his predicament. He did seem out of place.

Then, quite unexpectedly, he turned around to face me, and said, "It's really crowded in here today." My eyes were immediately drawn up to meet his, which now had focused with all their intensity and passion for life upon me. "Y-yes," I replied, flustered and unable to escape, "It's usually not this bad." Then, just as abruptly, he turned back around.

Ah! I blushed. I looked at the floor. What had just happened? He…he was younger than me, certainly. He probably worked outdoors--in construction or something? Maybe a carpenter? His skin was a beautiful deep chocolate brown. His hair was very short--cut for the summer. I would never normally meet anyone like him in the office. Wait! Why was I even thinking about this? I shook my head vigorously to clear away all thoughts of him--a person whom I would never see again anyway.

He had finished his business at the counter and was ready to depart. I looked over to take him in one last time. This day would be a pleasant but fading memory in future years. Our eyes met, and he smiled. "Heh! Are you hungry?" "Y-yes," I stammered self-consciously. "Well I'm going over to McDonalds. I'll buy you a meal if you meet me there. If not--well--Heh! --No sweat, ok?' And he was gone.

After finishing at the bank, my car took me right over to McDonalds. And there he was, looking me over with a huge grin. I looked away with embarrassment. What was I doing here? Was this even safe? "Heh! I knew you'd come," he laughed, "get over here."

My feet moved me over to a place beside him. When our turn in line came up, he ever so gently pushed me forward to place my order. "We're together," he announced solemnly, as if it were an eternal truth.

Later, as we sat facing each other in the booth, he asked about my job and my interests. We chatted about the weather, his work--it was construction--and the price of gas. Then, when we had finished came the moment I had been dreading. He asked for my number.

"But you know," I said politely grasping the french-fried air for an excuse, "I'm almost four--well I'm a little--just a little--older that you, and--"

"So what's your point? Do you want to see me again or don't you?"

He made me wait and think about him a whole week before he called to ask me out. Now, here I am in my bedroom, almost ready. I have struggled into some new skinny jeans and a carefully selected purple paisley Daisy Fuentes twisted-knot top, finishing up with my favorite black leather tall shaft boots. Now, some light make-up and perfume to finish--all for him. He will be here soon, and I have decided to get into his car and travel wherever he will take me.

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