A chance encounter. 9-27-99

(Variant on a theme of Kafka)

When I passed a pretty girl coming out of some coffee place, this is what we didn't say to each other.

"Excuse me, you're very beautiful. What's your name?"

"Ha! Like I would tell you! What kind of weirdo are you anyways? You don't wear gel in your hair, and it looks like a bird nest. Since you wear glasses, you might as well have had the taste to get fashionable ones. Your shirt is too big for you, and doesn't match those shorts too well. You're not wearing any socks, and those shoes are getting old and leaky. You try to walk with your head high, but you get stiff when I look at you. Your confidence is obviously a facade. Basically, you look like a scrub to me. I was having doubts about my boyfriend at the moment. But now that I've seen you, man! I'm glad I'm going out with him and not someone like you!"

"Yes, sweetie, you were probably right about everything. But in the meantime take a look at yourself. Your boobs and waist are finely shaped, but your face and thighs more than make up for that. You try to look sexy with all your makeup, but I think you've scared away more men than you've attracted. The smell of your perfume is strong, but the smell of your armpits is just as strong... You say you have a boyfriend, but I don't see him or any other guys following after you. He's probably not much of a guy, anyways, and you probably can't get anybody better, so you get into the habit of sticking to him. Am I right?"

"Yes, yes, we're both right... and so as not to keep ourselves painfully aware of it all the time, hadn't we better forget we ever met?"