And now we continue with your regularly scheduled program: "The Look, Part 2"
And there I sat, spaghetti carbonara in front of me and a tall glass of weissbier at my side; its stiff foamy head remaining suspended in mid-air, refusing to spill over the lip of the glass. I drink slowly from the weissbier, lest I should bury my nose in the foamy deliciousness. Savoring each tender moment, the brew and the boy exist in complete harmony. If my beer were a woman, we would be in love. If I were a beer, we would be in the same glass. The history of beer dates back to Babylonian times when a baker accidently left a loaf of bread in the rain and...
"blahblahblah schmekkktt?" (It means "did you like the meal?" in German)
My day-dreams had been interrupted by the waitress. Pulling myself out of my virtual ecstasy, I glance up to observe the origin of the rather sensual voice that has just awakened me...
This girl is beautiful. Like whoa. But that's not the point of this story. Lots of beautiful girls out there. I see them everyday. Nice, but not noteworthy. No. This chick had something else. She had style. She had class. She got moxy. But most importantly... she gave me "The Look" (My heart rate is reaching dangerous levels just writing this).
This chick shot me a look that might have killed a man who was more in touch than reality than I. I am going to try to describe exactly what happened. I am bound for failure, because this description is a lesson in futility. I cannot possibly capture the moment. But here is my best shot:
She was leaning over, palms on the tabletop, her head was cocked slightly to the left. Her body language screamed confidence and sexuality. Her eyes were adorned in black eye-liner, further accentuating the dark brown irises. Her hair was blonde. Her bod was killer. She was hot. She is hot. When I looked up at her, she gazed back down at me refusing to break eye contact. Bitch. When our eyes met, I saw her actually recognize the fact that she knew what she was doing. She has done this before. She is good. Here is a brief rundown of the following feelings and sensations I felt:
Step 1: Complete isolation. I felt an impending sense of doom. Think how Captain Kirk feels when the shields are down and a Romulan warbird is on the viewscreen (without magnification) and they are refusing to answer the hail. Hull breach imminent. I was in a state of catatonic disbelief. Running away was out of the question. I was too stupified. You know how animals start running away before an earthquake hits? They got the right idea.
Duration: 0.5 seconds
Step 2: Imagine being slugged in the chest with a cattle prod. Now scoff at how easy the cattle have it, multiply it by seven and send it coursing through all my veins. There is a feeling of electricity that runs through my body. I feel it most vividly in my calfs, chest, and elbows. I tense my muscles. The electricity is not instantaneous. It is like reaching the crest of a wave, and the descent is impending, slow, then faster, then complete. Heart rate accelerates. Breathing more rapid and shallow. Sweat forms on my forehead, back, and palms. I turn (more) pale.
Duration: 0.7 second
Step 3: You know the look on a little boy's face when he sees boobs for the first time? That.
Duration: 1.5 seconds
Step 4: Attempt speech. Fail.
Duration: Four trys
Step 5: Mumble incoherent German and offer an awkward smile and fumblings, giving the "A OK!" hand signal. Continue repeating "ser gut, ser gut" ("very good") until desired effect is achieved, namely, hottie walking away with a smile on her face.
Duration: 4 seconds
Step 6: Deep breath. The creeping sense of shame covers my body. I put my head in my hands and quietly laugh to myself.
Duration: 8 seconds
Step 7: Whip out my notebook and record the past 17.2 seconds.
Duration: the rest of the meal
Right now, 24 hours later, I can still see her face in my mind. The Look is something that I have seen before. It is the sense of mystery that emanates from it that attracts me so. However, the attraction is tempered by my realization of the attraction which in turn evolves into panic. My only hope is that eventually I shall become de-sensitized or immune to its disasterous effects. Time will tell.