A few weeks ago, I was at the Nile Restaurant in Hyde Park. It’s got fantastic, fantastic Middle Eastern food, but that’s not what this post is about (but trust me on the food).
It’s about what was going on outside of the restaurant.
Hyde Park has a special kind of vibe, it’s got the effortless cool of some college kids, with the layer of academia and sophisticated diversity, but levels of cool, upward intelligence, and diversity,
sophisticated or otherwise, don’t change the very basic of human dynamics.
So there was this guy, shortish, a little portly-ish, standing outside, watching this girl. She’s one of those girls whose look will be big in five years, the world just hasn’t caught up to her explosive blondish curls and blondish skin.
The boy noticed the girl.
As boys are known to do.
She met a friend, and they hugged and exclaimed.
As girls are known to do.
The whole time, the boy watched the girl.
The whole time, the girl didn’t notice, but more because she was trying not to.
Her friend moved along and she and the boy talked. He reached toward her, awkwardly, she didn’t take action to make it less awkward. She smiled, and she was friendly, but that’s all she was.
Then some more people came out of the restaurant next door, and her shoulders, her neck, her head looked up before her eyes did.
Toward a tall guy in the group. He offered her the straw of his smoothie. She smiled and took a sip.
The other boy looked down the street, away, and smoked a cigarette.
"There are other girls,” I told him, in my head.