Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Passing ... via my direction

It's a clear day, the sun is out, not too hot, but definitely warm. I'm focused, walking at a reasonable pace. I have on my brown gradient vintage sunglasses, my favorite seven jeans, that are nearly worn out, a nice pair of comfortable Ann Klein shoes, not the ones with the holes, and my funky multi-colored, mature floral leather purse.

A horn honks once, I turn and this handsome man seated up high, in an over sized black SUV with slightly tinted windows, stares with a serious look on his face, gesturing for me to walk his way.

It's amazing how body language goes far beyond spoken word.

I think to myself, If he's a gentleman like he looks, this won't be a long affair...I decide to pull up my shades, place them on my head and glance in his direction.

"Hello there," he said, once he saw that I was looking.

Still walking I shyly whispered "Hi," as I paused, pressed for time.

I take a deep breathe, unsure of what this encounter would turn out to be.

"Excuse me miss," he said clearly, distinctively."

"Do I proceed," I think, "I really don't have time to listen to this thirty-five year old man... Handsome; but I am unavailable, occupied, focused and not interested, asking me anything pertaining to taking me out on a date, going to dinner or especially calling me later, I'm far from available," I remind myself.

He overshadows all assumptions and says sharply,

"I am trying to get to Fenway Park. Do you know the best way to get there from here?"

I chuckle internally for about a split second. "What an unintelligent assumption," I thought.

And quickly before he notices, with poise, I say.

"I do...you want to get on Fenwood road, take a right thereafter onto Brookline Avenue," I say, "and follow Brookline Avenue straight and you'll run into Fenway Park, which will be on the right."

I continue my walk to staples as he drove away.

If every man simply asked for directions, they'd be much better led.

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