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Don't Look Back
2002-10-17 - 10:34 p.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

I love women.

Each has their own beauty.

And in that beauty, there are so many sides, like facets on a gemstone, that glint and reflect under scrutiny.

In repose, never trust anyone that has only one face.

conversation piece:

Scene:  rite-aid

location: checkout counter.

I was buying things with my credit card.

A cute girl, rather young, straight light brown hair, greenish hazel eyes, smooth skin and a little bit of a nose was behing the counter.  Nice figure, she radiated sweetness, and had the soft sheen of a girl becoming a woman, never seeing a hard day in her life.  Yet.

"Hello"  I said.

"Hi."  she said.

"Are you having a good day?"  I asked.

"Yeah,"she said."You?"

"Well, I'm still alive."  I said.  Means what it means and no more.

I ran my card through the machine, but it did not work.

"It didn't work."  I said, and than ran it through again.

"You've gotta' run it throug agai..." she trailed off, and did her thing.

The machine dotifully chirped, and the transaction started.

She gave me a slip of paper to sign.  I took it.

"And hey,"  I said, "I just want to thank you?   For coaching me through that tough moment I had back there?"  (ending my sentence with a PREPOSITON....midwest)

She laughed and looked me in the eye again, more confidently this time, blushed and looked away.

"Oh, no problem," she said, looking me back in the eye again.

Hazel, hazel, hazel.  I mean the best, I really do. 

"That's a nice watch.  Did your boyfriend get that for you?"  I said.

Twenty eight years to think of that.  Usually I don't even ask.  Nor care. 

She blushed more, and touched it, pausing, thinking.

Pausing and thinking.  Hmmm.  Yeah, its from some guy.

I have to suspect that poor bastard has seen better times of his life, and hopefully will again.  We have all been that poor bastard at some point.  Well I have.  Okay.

[faded pictures of her in her room talking on the phone...'yeah, I just don't know about brad, he's nice to have around, but...wait a second, call waiting beeped...yeah?  Brad.  What do you want?  Yeh, no.  Bye.  yeh, cyndi?  It was Brad.  Yeh. Uhhhh!  He's just so...I don't know...]

"No, actually, "  she said, pausing again,  "My mom got it for me...for Christmas."

She blushed more as I signed my name.

"Oh.  That's nice.  Seeya."  I said.

I turned and walked out, feeling her eyes upon me, not looking back.

Not looking back.


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