semi fiction 12: Open the Door
I was coming home from work one day, 4 pm or so, on a beautiful sunny, warm and crip afternoon, off of the main roads and on a side street when I see in a driveway this SUV with an open door and a fantastically long, perfectly tanned, woman's leg out of an open car door, waiting for her to finish whatever it is she is doing or gathering from the car. The high vehicle put her and this leg as on a pedestal. I slowed down, hypnotized. Silky skin, perfect tone, shaven impeccably, short jean short, off-white classy sweater, short, trimmed, dark hair. I stopped in the middle of that street. She turned around, probably having heard the engine, looked interrogatively at my car, slightly surprised.
I pulled up along the grass on her side of the street.
--"Excuse me, Ma'am. Don't get it wrong. But I just wanted to thank you.
--What?
--It's one of those beautiful days, thigns are routine, 250 days like this all year long, and here I am coming back home from work. And I see you, and let me say, again, with all apologies, you have been a flash of beauty and wonder as I was passing. I just wanted to say thank you.
She looked at me, half... wondering if I was a pervert, a bit stunned and not comprehending, maybe also slightly amused, I am not sure. Forty years old or so, money, a professional, dynamic personality I can tell, quick thinking in the movement of her eyes, not a classical beauty, maybe even not a beauty, but good-looking, a well-defined jaw line, must exercize, maybe even tan in a salon, thin, muscular, TONED (that's it, that's the right word)--but could be natural. Pause.
-- Well, thank you, it's very nice of you.. er
-- I apologize, sounds corny, and don't think I am trying to pick you up, I just thought... as we all rush to and fro, I would just take two minutes and thank you for just this, we never take the time to appreciate things, tell people we notice them, regardless of what we notice or why. That's all. Have a good day.
And I turned and walked back to my car.
-Sir!
I turn around towards her, she is in the driveway, her purse, keys, sunglasses in her hand. Not shorts, it is a skirt, nice heavy sweater, coton, linen maybe.
-- You are right, we never take the time. Thanks, it is very nice that you would stop and tell me this. (pause, she is looking at me, I am not sure what is going on, a notion that her house is right here... wakes up and sneaks into my mind...)
and she asks:
-- It was the leg, wasn't it?
-- What?
-- It was my leg that you noticed as you were passing, wasn't it?
-- Er, well.. Yes. Why? I ...
-- People always comment on my legs.
-- Well, er, they are nice. But that's not the only thing and ...
-- Tell you what, how about you pay me a nice drink or coffee at the beach? Go south, I don't want to see a whole bunch of people and cars and have to cross the whole town with all this traffic. Drive!
And she goes around my car and opens the passenger door, moves my stuff to the back seat herself.
And that, my friends, is how I met A---, and had my most relaxing break of the last several months, coffee on the beach, sitting on the sand, me in my shirt, dockers, and leather shoes, she in her sweater and jean mini-skirt (she took off her shoes, just like in the movies)... She had a pink underwear on, as I saw by accident when she sat, and later, stretched of all her length and hair right on the sand (and you know that a woman who will stretch on the sand in her work clothes, especially in a mini-skirt, is a sensual one...)
And nothing happened... We just made it a memorable couple hours of light talk, jokes, silence at times, coffee, enjoying the seagulls and the open space, the beautiful Carolina blue sky and beach, the peace, the light warmth, the complete other world, right there and so often forgotten and neglected. We drove back and that was that.
And when I saw her again a week or two later, again when driving back home after work, I gestured to her that I had to go home (pointed at my watch and then forward), waved to her, she waved back, and that was that. So far...
Life as this is indeed bearable at times. But you have to break the chains of routine. Some other time, I guess we might do this again? Who knows? It does not matter, we got the best part of it yanked off of the daily grind. One for us, none for the bastards.
I pulled up along the grass on her side of the street.
--"Excuse me, Ma'am. Don't get it wrong. But I just wanted to thank you.
--What?
--It's one of those beautiful days, thigns are routine, 250 days like this all year long, and here I am coming back home from work. And I see you, and let me say, again, with all apologies, you have been a flash of beauty and wonder as I was passing. I just wanted to say thank you.
She looked at me, half... wondering if I was a pervert, a bit stunned and not comprehending, maybe also slightly amused, I am not sure. Forty years old or so, money, a professional, dynamic personality I can tell, quick thinking in the movement of her eyes, not a classical beauty, maybe even not a beauty, but good-looking, a well-defined jaw line, must exercize, maybe even tan in a salon, thin, muscular, TONED (that's it, that's the right word)--but could be natural. Pause.
-- Well, thank you, it's very nice of you.. er
-- I apologize, sounds corny, and don't think I am trying to pick you up, I just thought... as we all rush to and fro, I would just take two minutes and thank you for just this, we never take the time to appreciate things, tell people we notice them, regardless of what we notice or why. That's all. Have a good day.
And I turned and walked back to my car.
-Sir!
I turn around towards her, she is in the driveway, her purse, keys, sunglasses in her hand. Not shorts, it is a skirt, nice heavy sweater, coton, linen maybe.
-- You are right, we never take the time. Thanks, it is very nice that you would stop and tell me this. (pause, she is looking at me, I am not sure what is going on, a notion that her house is right here... wakes up and sneaks into my mind...)
and she asks:
-- It was the leg, wasn't it?
-- What?
-- It was my leg that you noticed as you were passing, wasn't it?
-- Er, well.. Yes. Why? I ...
-- People always comment on my legs.
-- Well, er, they are nice. But that's not the only thing and ...
-- Tell you what, how about you pay me a nice drink or coffee at the beach? Go south, I don't want to see a whole bunch of people and cars and have to cross the whole town with all this traffic. Drive!
And she goes around my car and opens the passenger door, moves my stuff to the back seat herself.
And that, my friends, is how I met A---, and had my most relaxing break of the last several months, coffee on the beach, sitting on the sand, me in my shirt, dockers, and leather shoes, she in her sweater and jean mini-skirt (she took off her shoes, just like in the movies)... She had a pink underwear on, as I saw by accident when she sat, and later, stretched of all her length and hair right on the sand (and you know that a woman who will stretch on the sand in her work clothes, especially in a mini-skirt, is a sensual one...)
And nothing happened... We just made it a memorable couple hours of light talk, jokes, silence at times, coffee, enjoying the seagulls and the open space, the beautiful Carolina blue sky and beach, the peace, the light warmth, the complete other world, right there and so often forgotten and neglected. We drove back and that was that.
And when I saw her again a week or two later, again when driving back home after work, I gestured to her that I had to go home (pointed at my watch and then forward), waved to her, she waved back, and that was that. So far...
Life as this is indeed bearable at times. But you have to break the chains of routine. Some other time, I guess we might do this again? Who knows? It does not matter, we got the best part of it yanked off of the daily grind. One for us, none for the bastards.
Labels: break from routine
posted by kingba at 5:50 AM
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