I guess that I couldn't really blame her as she glanced my way from the back of the crowd. After all, I wasn't just another face in the crowded club. Yes, I'm feeling myself. By her looks, I definitely belong somewhere close to her, and as our eyes met, our retina's danced to a beat that would transfix us for an entire... 3 seconds.
Locked with anticipation, she give me the standard lookover. As the eyes can be a powerful tool when it comes to seduction, with a soft kindness she gave me the proverbial head nod before quickly disappearing out of sight and into the crowd, but clearly not out of mind. Induced by my state of inebriation, I knew that she belonged to me. Unfortunately, the malaise of way too many shots of patron mixed with dark liquer had control over me at the time. Dejected, I needed to go home.
But my long ride home would be interrupted by an uneventful situation.
I don't know about yours, but my intoxicated reflexes usually force an urge for me to go to IHOP. Upon arrival, in my drunk stupor, I stumbled to a seat and waited impatiently for a waitress. As each second moves like a slow drip, the circular movement of the room is suddenly interrupted by a nubian sister -- no -- THAT IS MY nubian sister... my club Queen.
But she is not alone. She is with a guy, presumably her boyfriend, and he's tall, built, and literally glued to her. He's so close to her that in my totally inebriated state, I'm looking throughing him, refusing to acknowledge his existence. Why? I don't know... I'm drunk.
I feel a strong urge take over me. Rising to my feet, I began to feel invincible.
All the while the ticking noise intensifies between my ears, forcing me to struggle to adjust my posture as I swiftly stumble a few feet in their direction. I look at her... seductively. And with the intensity of a drunken sailor on the high seas, I lean over and start babbling words in her ear.
Then all of a sudden -- well, that's about all that I can recall. But the noise I will never forget. Nor the stars. The ticking noise is suddenly replaced by a "BOOM" as I drop. Hard.
Alcohol has a way of bringing out arrogance, gallantry, and sometimes... unfortunate circumstances -- like this. I don't remember him punching me in the face, or how I got into my car, or how I decided that sleeping in my car would be wise, but there I was, sitting in my driveway, still seeing stars. It's Monday morning now and as I should be preparing for work, I see myself from the dashboard mirror, and it's not a pretty sight at all.
Ok, I better call the boss. I'm taking a sick day.
Starving, I try to collect myself as I work to remember the circumstances from the night before. But all that I could think about was her.... and my deep dark PURPLE eye. Damn. Did she hit me so hard that I graduated from a black eye to aPURPLE one? Wait a minute... who hit me?
And how do you quickly rid yourself of a shiner? Starbuck's coffee perhaps? Sure, why not? Perhaps a morning latte can relieve me of my morning malaise. So I collect myself, start my car, and drive two blocks to the local coffee shop.
So the clock is still ticking. Why? At this point, I have no idea, but I just can't get the noise out of my head... tick, tock, tick, tock....
tick, tick, tock, tock....
"Stop it!" I scream.
"Excuse me sir?"
"Oh. Sorry, I am so sorry... I'll have a latte please... the tall one please."
I'm sure that I scared the living mess out of the young lady behind the counter - which is probably why my beverage was prepared in record time.
Without delay, I take a sip.... then another sip... and finally I feel normalcy returning. I finally feel debility slowing being restored in my body, and despite my new eye decor, I began to feel energized. Determined. Despite my horrible night I was gonna make something out of this day. And with that, I rise, turn to leave... and lo and behold.... there she is... My nubian sister... enters the coffee shop. Feeling jilted, my eyes met hers... again.
"Hi there maam. Hey look I'm so sorry about that idiot move - I deserved --"
"No, no, please, it's ok. Well it's not ok, but I hope that you are ok.
Then we laugh.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing like this, but I have never had so many encounters with one man over the last 12 hours. But is your eye ok?"
"I think so. I still see beauty. Yours. And yeah this is strange. From the club to IHOP and now here we are in Starbucks. Look I'm sorry about last night but I better get out of here before my other eye gets jammied."
"Wait. No. Please talk to me. I think that you had something to tell me before - well - (laughing) you know. Oh and by the way - that creep from last night - his actions were so unwarranted. I didn't like it at all and I made it very clear to him that I can't tolerate violence like that in my life. You didn't deserve that and I'm so sorry that it happened. But I'm glad that you're ok."
A warmness envelopes me. I don't know if it was from her words or the relief in knowing that she was not the one that gave me this jammy.
We grabbed a seat and talked for hours. She shared her experiences growing up in a broken home where pops was either not around or coming home in a rage, hitting her mom. Growing up, she vowed to never let an ounce of aggressive behavior be a part of her world, which justifies why she ditched dude. I could dig that. And I expressed how and why I felt compelled to approach her. We laughed as I blamed it on the "a a a a a alcohol." We laughed some more before finally exchanging numbers.
At my strongest point I was only worth 3 seconds of her attraction. But in less than 16 hours, I was a hungover, purple eyed, disheveled looking dude that became vulnerable to the moment, and it opened up my world to her. So often, my greatest moments in life have arrived at times when I was unprepared, weak, and totally vulnerable - I guess that sums up parts of my life to a certain extent. Reminds me of a funny saying that I am still working on... so don't laugh at it. In fact, please help me if you can make this sound a little better.
Life is like a latte... filled with froth and cream all whipped up in a cup.... a whole lotta something, but in essence, a whole lotta something that really is absolutely nothing
So how do you prepare for the blessings that await you???
First 48 Hours: The Resurrection - this was my initial title of the post... I wanted to go in a different direction. And my initial intro? Don't laugh at it - I was bugging...
"For The MANChild Swagga, the clock starts ticking the moment she is witnessed. His chance of absolving the chase is cut in half if he doesn't get at her in THE FIRST 48. Each passing hour gives her more time to flee, random dudes more random access to her, while crucial moments of bliss are lost forever."