The part of me will be played by a plastic toy:
So, its nearing midnight and I throw on some grubby clothing, toss my hair around with product, and rush out the door to the local A&P before closing. I look a bit disheveled, but not completely grotesque. I wait in line for my favorite clerk, Sharon, a woman in her sixties, brash as hell but tender to the core. She is interacting with a bunch of twenty somethings talking about drinking a fifth of Jack Daniels and a single can of coke.
I am smiling and enjoying their company. It was only a moment when I flashed a smile at a tall attractive boy in the group. He wore a brown leather cap and a baggie tee with some clever message I cant recall it was his grin that grabbed my attention, not his clothing. The group of three leaves; Sharon and I resume conversation. I look up and the attractive boy turns around and walks towards me. He says, Youre beautiful. I smile and say thank you.
It was a moment when I wish I could have really thanked him rather than giving him a brush off thank you. It was the way he said it that took me by surprise. He didnt say the Youre beautiful, give me your number. Or Youre beautiful. Now show me your tits. In New Orleans, the men are brash and throw compliments around like plastic beads. After a while the compliments feel unoriginal and standard practice to get laid.
But this guy FLOORED me with a Youre beautiful and he just turned around and walked away. There are many moments I wish I could bottle, this would be the one for the keeping.
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I don't know, you want to dine with nearly dead? I think he's all booked up this week...