Sunday, June 27, 2004
Service: * * *
Food: * * *
Ambience: * * *
Babe Count: * * * * *
Phone: +27 11 478 1161
Oooooooooooooo! There's a blonde, early thirties, long long hair, thrilling smile, sitting across from me. She's with an old dude, in his mid or late seventies. Father? Sugar daddy?
I've just GOT to draw her.
Zap out the palmtop, and start sketching. She notices me almost immediately, which is really rare. Most people are oblivious.
It's not exactly obvious what I'm doing, since most people haven't experienced a dude in a beret staring at them for long seconds then glancing down at an electronic gizmo in his hand then scratching at the screen with a stylus. Most people wouldn't have a clue they're being drawn. In fact, it's a pretty good bet they'd think the dude in the beret was a psycho and ought to be put down. The way a vet puts things down.
So I make an executive decision. Once I've drawn the black layer of the picture, I turn the palmtop towards her, and show her. She looks at the screen, does a double take, looks in my eyes, then back at the screen. A broad smile.
My trout arrives. But I ignore it. I'm intent on getting all the colour done before I eat.
It must be really difficult for her, cos she keeps blushing whenever I stare for longer than ten seconds. The reason I'm looking for such long periods of time is that since I've gone for this Egon Schiele style of colouring, I'm really looking hard to see beyond the obvious. Skin isn't merely pink. It's got all sorts of other colours in it.
I finish, and turn the screen to her again. She looks for a long time, nods, smiles. Looks at the old guy.
I eat my trout. I'm halfway through when she gets up to leave with the old guy.
I pick up my palmtop, and cock an eyebrow at her. She steps up to me, and I turn it on.
"That's beautiful," she says.
And here's Mister Suave sitting here, Roy Blumenthal, the dude who reckons he has no problems with seduction. And he's completely tongue tied.
I literally don't know what to say. "Thanks," I manage. I SHOULD have said, "That's because YOU're beautiful. And I'd love to get your email address, so I can send it to you. And I'll print a copy out, and I can give it to you over coffee." Instead, all I gargle is, "Thanks."
She says, "See you around then?"
"Yeah," I say. "Uh... have a happy night." Aaaaargh!!!! What's wrong with me??? SHOULD have said, "I'd love to see you around. Shall we have coffee?"
She walks away. And how the hell am I ever going to see her again??? Eish.
This is something I've noticed in myself. If I feel attracted to someone in a non-trivial sorta way, I find it quite hard to make a move. This is exactly how it was with Jacqui. We were attracted to each other for at least three years before we made moves on each other. Ugh! And here's this blonde woman who could really be out of a dream catalogue of Babes-Made-For-Roy. And I don't even know her name!
Ah well. I'm seeing the third Harry Potter movie tonight. Maybe magic will happen.