Riding the Slipstream

The queue was long and the clerk behind the counter was doing a first-class impression of molasses on a cold day in Antarctica I smiled, she smiled back at me. She said, “Do I know you from somewhere?” I said, “I don’t think so. I would have remembered” She looked puzzled, but only for an instant, as the implication of the words sank in. She tilted her head to the side and looked me straight in the eye. An innocent gesture, yet so provocative. I returned the look as best I could, and let my eyes wander slowly over her face. It lasted a moment, but it seemed timeless. When one is confronted with beauty and sex appeal, one wants the moment last indefinitely. “I am not usually this presumptuous, but would you like to go for a drink with me?” It was a gutsy move, but then sometimes a gutsy move is all it takes to advance to the next level. Temptation, followed by hesitation. I said, “No thanks, I’ve got somewhere else I have to be. Perhaps, another time?” “Yeah, perhaps another time”, she said softly and looked away. The moment was gone. It might as well never have existed. I should have been proud of myself, but the truth is, I was not. Yet, I could not have said yes. One drink would not have quenched my thirst, not when I could feel it rise up from a place deep inside of me. Life hardly ever plays a fair game… but then, why should it? It holds all the aces. Cry me a river...