She was sitting in a small café with her best friend, eating crepes. They always ate crepes when they were bored together, which happened frequently. Despite this peculiar habit, neither of them was overweight. On the contrary, both girls were in that prime twenty-something age, with bodies beaming of health and well being. Slender limbed, they sat together touching elbows and laughing.
A young man observed them.
Obscured from their view by the wide shoulders of his companions, he watched their boisterous interaction. Barely audible, he could not hear their conversation, but saw enough to intrigue him. Both girls were pretty, but his attention was captivated by the brunette with a sun kissed face. A friendly disposition, coupled with unbroken smile and intermittent bouts of laughter, engaged her lean body in a careless dance of joy. She was pleasing to watch and something in her demeanor reminded him of the glee he had experienced with his first love.
He was not consciously aware why she attracted him, but knew instinctively that he wanted to meet her. He approached the counter behind which the girls sat and waited, fiddling with the menu, until embarrassment spread to the roots of his hair.
Under the patient gaze of the owner, he could no longer remain silent and felt compelled to request: “Another cappuccino.”
The girls took no notice of him. He almost parted his lips to say “hello”, the way kids do when they want to meet a new friend, but thought it too simple. He closed his mouth and stared at the bar. Wanting to make a favorable first impression, he was suddenly at a loss for words. He had nothing clever to say, no funny line to intrigue her. He waited, hesitating to make any movement until the right words came. No words emerged from his brain.
The owner placed a cup in front of him. He grabbed it too quickly, spilling half of the contents all over the counter. The girls turned to look.
- “He’s cute,” said the redhead.
- “Tall, dark and handsome! Your type”, replied the brunette.
- “Hello” - said red, smiling at the clumsy man.
- “Hello.” He smiled, then turned to the other girl and blurted out: “Are you from Mexico City?”
- “No” was all she said.
- " You look like you could be from Mexico City”.
- “Just because I have dark hair does not mean I am from Mexico.”
- “Sorry. I did not mean to imply that you were. It’s just that I once dated a girl from Mexico City and you reminded me of her,” he tried to explain.
- “I am not her.” A sudden tone of annoyance resonated through her lovely voice.
- “Where are you from?” He wanted to steer the conversation back to a friendlier note.
- “We are from the Eastern Europe”, said the red head and turned away with a determination to end the conversation.
- “I am sorry to have bothered you.”
He left their side like a wet dog, dragging the remnants of an empty cup along with him.
- “Why is it that men always go for you? I have absolutely no chance of meeting anyone when I am with you," complained the younger girl.
- “That is not true. Men see me first because I am taller. But then they notice that I am ordinary looking. Your look is more exotic and intimidating. It takes the right kind of guy to recognize the exquisiteness of your beauty.”
- “You are just saying this to be nice. We both know you are beautiful and are much prettier than me.”
- “I don’t think so.” Her voice was sweet and sincere, but she was lying. She added for good measure: “Look on the bright side, when guys approach to speak to me, they inevitably become intrigued by your personality.”
- “Yea, yeah, yeah. I know all about my obnoxious personality.”
- “Your personality is why I adore you." She meant it and threw both arms around her petite companion ina conciliatory hug.
The young man returned to his table and sat in a way that allowed him to continue watching. He half listened to his friends, half wondered why being from Mexico City could be offensive. If the girls were from Europe, surely they knew that it was the capital of Mexico, one of the largest cities in the world, an important economic, industrial and cultural center. He knew nothing about European pride and its superiority to the rest of the world. He grew up in the South and had no way of knowing the psyche of a European.
Still, he did not enjoy giving in and decided try again.
The girls got up to leave, but he had no new plan of action. Not wanting to leave things to another chance meeting, he watched them cross the parking lot , hoping for a sign.
A sign came in a form of delay. They did not immediately get in the car and continued talking.
“Here is my chance”, he thought and ran out of the cafe. He skipped, thumping the asphalt with his clumsy feet. (They did not hear him approach.) Out of breath, he almost landed at their feet, murmuring inaudible sounds. Both women stared at him with a startled expression.
He took her hand and asked bravely: “Could I have your phone number?”
She pulled her hand away, saying nothing. Then, suddenly feeling guilty, she announced: “I am engaged to be married. ”
- “Sorry to have bothered you. It was nice meeting you... Both.” He left feeling defeated.
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A few months later, she found herself at a noisy school auditorium, crammed with excited students. She spotted a quiet corner and sat down to fill out her forms. A tall handsome young man was sitting at a table next to hers, studying his paperwork.
As she wrote, he looked up and saw her. Herr tan face, her freckles, her sun kissed hair, everything danced as she filled out her papers. He stared, taking in her soft features. She seemed serene and friendly, like the kind of girl you's want to meet on a first day of school.
She felt his gaze and looked up, smiling.
“Are you from Mexico City?” he asked.
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