Glistening Glaze

I'm going to put the story of my world-wide quest for love here, soon.

In the meantime, here is a chapter of my localized, grocery store quest for love...

Written to a French girl (thus the thoughts about the reader not understanding subtleties of English, and with the original capitalization - ie., it's an email I decided not to send to the French girl, afterall, as it might insult her (to speak of other girls!) - here it is, though, for anyone who might stumble across it...)

yesterday, in a shop - a huge, chaotic crowd - as if the martians were coming, or something (just a blizzard, really) - maybe 50 people in the queue for each till - and i was going to be in one queue, but this lady and i decided another would be quicker

as always happens with me, i was now two people behind the most extraordinary girl. she was tall, blonde-ish, in a cool way - she looked like a snowboarding girl who had liberal tendencies, but not extreme.

as fate would have it, or as would be in most people's lives only seen in a movie, she decided to break from the queue and get a croissant or something from the bakery section of the shop...leaving her basked of stuff on the ground...

the perfect opportunity, you see? only in movies...and in austino's magical existence...

she didn't check behind her as she negotiated with the baker, so as the queue inched forward, i took her basked of stuff with me. not really such a big deal, and pretty much the obvious thing to do...

it was just the angle of her body, when she was standing there. i am probably better at picking up on subtle queues than anyone on earth. she was totally cool, i promise you

anyway, when i  - when she saw i'd "had her back", as it were, she said something like "thank you - that's so kind of you."

it's the most infinitely small linguistic thing - you could never understand it - but most people would say "nice".  what it conveyed, in such a subtle way you could never understand, is that she was educated, but also had a larger vocabulary for good deeds than would most people. but she wasn't some prissy do-gooder, either. and to have a larger vocabulary of words is to have a larger vocabulary of thought...meaning, she must think about being good. which, granted, mengele might, also, but as something to defeat. i imagined - and could tell - it was something, for her, to promote. but again, not in an obnoxious way. i could just tell. and i know i was right.

she was just cool.

anyway, i saw her trying to catch my eye, and I avoided it. finally she did, and she said, and again a minute later, things about how goddamned wonderful i was or something.

i did something really stupid, though - it's like, i didn't want her to think i had done something kind because she was a babe - and she wasn't REALLY a babe - she was more - good looking the way a snowboarding girl would be good looking, if you know what i mean. maybe...max - 3? % more testosterone than a prissy girl - enough to subtly make her cooler, without taking away from...it was just the way she stood. her body language. she was SO cool...

she also had these normal sweat pants on, except the bottom of one leg of them - not both, just one - had, maybe 5 stripes of vaguely, but not overly, rainbow colours. as if, she was also, maybe...2-3% the descendant of some liberal 60s activist or something, but just so subtle. where could you even get normal sweatpants with a 3 percent nod to the new hampshire rugged libertarian vaguely 1960s inspired ethos?

nowhere on this planet, or the planet most people inhabit - but in my planet, all things coalesce in an awesome pattern...

anyway, at least three times she gave me the opportunity to strike up a conversation - and truthfully, had she been ugly, I would have done...

but I didn't.

normally, if something like that happens, i'll regret it for a few hours.

in paris, once - omg, this girl - it was magic - i regret it to this day...

the thing is, i'm SO accustomed to being at a place like Ox, where it's best to just spread the magic as a glistening glaze across the university, so that girls start talking to each other about who that magic boy must be.

it doesn't work in the big city.

you'll never see the person again.

i've got to learn this lesson, man...

disclaimer - this was written for a friend, and the "magic boy" comment was for my friend, who, of course, being my friend, thinks i'm a magic boy (so she says...!) it doesn't mean i think that - that would be arrogant! :D