So, last night, I was taking the bus home, feeling a little, y’know, anti-social, nose buried in my book (“All The President’s Men” — awesome. I will post a review over at Geeks Against Bush when I’m finished), sitting near the back of the bus…
The bus stopped in front of Portland State, and this brunette got on and sat across from me. I can’t judge age well but she seemed like she was in her late 20s early 30s, maybe? She was wearing these faded old jeans, and, well… wow. I noticed a picture badge hanging from her backpack that was from the university — but I couldn’t tell, in my quick glance, if she was a student or faculty. Seemed more student-ish.
I’m sitting on one of the sideways chairs, and she’s sitting across the aisle facing towards the front of the bus.
She’s sitting there, and I’m looking at her, and she’s looking around, and… frankly, I don’t know why she turned to look, but she did it slowly up to a point and then turned quickly to see if I was looking at her. I was. And, again, like the last time, I held her gaze, not smiling, just a neutral gaze straight into her eyes.
…which were a rich dark brown, by the way.
She holds the look for just the briefest of seconds, and when it becomes apparent that I’m not looking away, nor am I embarassed, she looks down and away and gives this very coy, but also very sexy smile.
She has just the slightest blush, also. I smile, very subtly, back, and then return to reading my book.
When this happens, there’s a shock to my system, that’s hard to describe. But my mind goes into overdrive, fighting with myself as to what to do next.
Sadly, the part of my brain that says, “Do nothing; danger here!” won. 🙁
But for the rest of the bus ride, I can see her in my peripheral vision, over the top of my book, once or twice, look back in my direction.
When she got off the bus, she deliberately walked past the bus, and almost literally glared at me through the window, as if she was so disappointed that I hadn’t followed up on my direct stare.
It was… fascinating, actually. It made me recall another time from the night before. Another cute brunette, she was on the phone, I smiled at her and then sat right behind her. And after she got off the phone, she kept sneaking glances at me behind her.
This is the revelation I had, and it seems kind of basic and a stoopid thing for me to only now to be learning, after forty years… but here it is:
Some girls want to be approached.
Weird, huh?
It’s a completely new concept in my experience… but it seems to be happening a lot lately.