Some weekday afternoon, I was seated on a common table in a cafe, reading some fiction book. It so happened, within few minutes of me being there, a young lady, dressed formally, choose to seat across me on the same table.
Shoulder length hair, white formal shirt, beige pants, dusky tone with her office Armour. Somehow, we got into a conversation, I don’t recollect how it started. Most likely, I must have made a reference to something about her. It was peculiar of me.
We laughed, made faces, spoke about fun things including her first night stand in Ireland on her solo trip. To a third party observer it may seem, we are good old friends or may be a couple.
Past twenty minutes, she had to leave for an interview. And so she bid me goodbye and left.
Not too long after she left, another girl, who I presume was around, and witness to my chit chat with first girl, walked past me, opened the exit door positioned just across me and left the exit door open.
(This particular door has a fan on top of it, which makes noise when the door is left open. I don’t know what they call it).
I raised my head towards the door, as the noise drew my attention towards itself.
Loo and behold, what I see…This pretty girl, long hair standing facing me and smiling at me.
“Ahhh!” I said to myself. An invitation.
Still not being well formed in ways of mating, I didn’t follow the natural order.
Which is to get up, walk up to her and lead her (and us) on.
It seems she was sympathetic to men.
Because she came in again, walk towards the dustbin, pretending to throw a waste, playing an act for the audience there.
And again walking past me, however this time giving me a physical nudge and an added bye, to make sure I get it.
Leading herself past the door and standing there again, looking at me, but now with faded smile and an expression of disenfranchisement, as I didn’t budge from my seat towards her.
Seconds later, she vanishes from my purview. Clearly dissaponinted.
I sat there, wondering what stopped me to follow an obvious invitation.
I rationalized myself, thinking ‘I had other things on my mind’.
However I knew that was not true.
Years later, I still think about that particular incident
What hold me back that day?
My desire to experience a woman was weaker than my fear.
Fear of what, you may ask.
I don’t know. Neither do I care.
Because I have realized, having a strong desire takes care of all fears.