Each friend represents a world in us possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
—Anais Nin
Brief Encounter
The only available seats were the two next to her. I took the one against the wall leaving an empty stool between us.
Her posture was erect, a student of yoga, I thought, a second before the bartender approached and I ordered my drink.
She was young, beautiful and sexy with sculptured features and long dark hair. Although, she was "blond once," she shared later. Her eyes were dark caverns into which it would be easy to get lost and in the course of two hours, I did, many times. She was innocence and experience but not in contrast. She carried her sophistication well, and that will definitely improve with age. When she walked across the room, every male head turned to watch her shimmer across the floor, each wishing in silence to have her for his own.
Someone needed a chair, so she slid into the empty seat between us, placing herself closer to me. She pondered about starting her life, finding a job, moving out from her parent's home, having a boyfriend. We sat facing each other, perpendicular to the bar. Searching the essence of ourselves within this minute amount of time. We touched, we laughed, we celebrated the richness of human connection before it was time for her to head North and home.
After walking her to her car, she placed her arms around my neck and we held one another in an embrace. Those ancient longings, dreams, feelings and memories of my youth swelled in my loins but I reminded myself I was more than twice her age. She placed a gentle kiss upon my lips and left.
The essence we all have as a physical part of our entity is what connects us and it is not aged based. Only our bodies age, not the essence of who we really are. That night, for a few moments, I was thirty again, at least in my own mind.
I will probably never see Ally again, but I will save a seat at the corner bar just in case she comes back through town. Thank you, Ally. You are a dream, an ego boost and a cure for the ailment of aging.
Photo Credit: Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942 Oil on canvas 30 x 60 in. The Art Institute of Chicago.