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I went for coffee the other day with Cheeseboy. We went to one of those cafes popular with the coffee snobs, with people bunched around the counter and sitting at the communal table at the front of the shop.
The barista was a woman of about 30. She had dark hair and direct blue eyes and a tattoo that crawled up from under her shirt and curled around the side of her neck in vibrant colours. She was not beautiful, but she was attractive, and in my eyes as I stood there giving her our order she was very sexy.
We sat down and talked about the usual things, but I was aware all the while of the barista behind me. I meet plenty of women and admire a good percentage of them. Usually it’s very fleeting: you see them, you like them, you move on. Sometimes you speak to them, may even get to know them, may find in time that the attraction goes far deeper. What hardly ever happens though are those head-turning, wow moments, no matter how beautiful they are. To actually feel that jolt of electricity is virtually unknown – yet that is what I felt looking into the eyes of the barista.
Why is that I wondered. The tattoo marked her out, it made her sexy if only for the fact that it illustrated an attitude I found alluring. It was bold, individual, had a I don’t give a fuck what you think spirit. Would I want my daughter to get a tatt like that? Probably not, but I liked it.
That wasn’t it though, not completely anyway. It sharpened my senses perhaps, raised in me a sense of curiosity that over-rode the usual banal conventionality of ordering a coffee. My eyes lifted from her tatt to her eyes. She looked at me, direct and unabashed, friendly eyes that hid nothing, as if she was better than to hide anything. They were good eyes that I found myself responding to. Combined with her looks, the tattoo, and her general attitude I felt deeply attracted to her. She was someone worth knowing I thought, someone I would welcome surprises waiting for me within – which is one of the great things I’m always searching for.
Around the same time I found myself admiring two 0ther women for very different reasons.
I was at a presentation sitting in a small auditorium watching a PowerPoint presentation in the dark. My mind wandered, as it will, and my eyes went with it. I spied sitting across from me a few rows down a woman I had briefly admired inside the office for all the usual banal reasons.
I don’t know her background, but she appears Eurasian. She was attractive before, but with a new, elegant hair-cut she seemed a different woman. While she is physically attractive what impresses me so much is the person inside she seems to be. She seems quiet and peaceful, even serene. Observing her she seems to have that rare gift of grace. I don’t doubt that she is kind, gentle, generous, compassionate, and it seems to shine from her. Shine, not glow – to glow would be too obtrusive and out of character .
She wafts by the office and I catch her. I don’t feel the usual attraction towards her. I feel a kind of admiration for who she appears to be. Looking upon her makes me feel good, and induces in me a kind of calm remembrance of the things that really count.
I don’t know if any of this makes sense, but there is another I wish to record here.
She is another person who works in the office. She is from Iran originally, an attractive woman in her late twenties. I have dealings with her in my role and she is always helpful and friendly. Even before I met her she would pass by in the corridor and give me a friendly, sincere smile that always made me feel good. As I do the Eurasian I find myself admiring her. In a similar, but different way to the Eurasian I find her life affirming.
Man, I’m the outside consultant, I have all the answers supposedly, at least I’m being as if I do. With that comes a territory which I inhabit pretty easily. Hard at the ball in the old vernacular, confident, opinionated, ambitious, and terribly, impressively clever.
They remind me that that’s all just stuff. It’s not bad, but it’s not the answer. These girls have a generosity of spirit and a natural grace that moves me.
I should add that I have no thoughts or ambitions towards these girls. My feelings towards them are as pure as they’ll ever be. I just wanted to share them, and to record before I forget what they make me feel.
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