So I’m sitting at the CoffeeBean, and there’s this pretty girl sitting at a table across the way, with her guy. As I was unloading my laptop, I glanced up and saw her give him this look of incredibly sweet warmth – like she was just happy to be sitting there, with him, in the soft warmth of a Nevada spring.
Part of me wished I had someone to look at me that way, of course. But I mostly felt reaffirmed in some small way that, despite whatever horrors humanity can conceive, there’s still room for beautiful young girls in floral-print skirts to sit and fall in love. Something still works, I guess.
I wish I could believe him, because that's the exact thing I wish I had. Maybe if I met a girl that actually liked to wear skirts. That's a long shot I know, but Kelly wouldn't even wear a skirt if I asked her to. I wonder if she would for the other guy.
2 comments:
Dude, it's not even like I'm all happy and fuzzy in love myself. I'm as bitter as the next guy. And I have to fight a sort of rising reactive misogynism every day. (i.e. "Fuck those bitches", that sort of thing.)
I just thought it was cool that the girl looked at him that way. It wasn't about me and my misery, you know what I mean?
Keep your chin up. And if you see me in the Frog, I'll buy you a beer.
Josh
I understand completely, and I'll take you up on that beer someday soon. Thanks.
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