Falling in Love with the Human Race

Standing at the corner, waiting for the bus, I opened my silver cigarette case. My heart filled with the softness of love after asking God to come with me today. An older man was sitting on the bench, the thought entered into my mind, “Offer him a cigarette.” Okay so following the intuitive thought I asked if he would like one. He walked over to me speaking; my earphones on I didn’t hear him. The shuffle of his feet looked like he should be in a hospital gown and a robe. The Thorazine shuffle, in jeans and sneakers, hey maybe it’s a trend. I smiled in my new girl persona and asked again if he would like a cigarette. The newly escaped mental patient shook his head violently up and down.

Reminiscent of the fifties, I opened my silver case with one hand, oddly I thought of red manicured nails and the deep voice of Joan Crawford. My nails are not painted red, looking at my neatly bitten nail beds. The man takes the cigarette I offer him, all the while unable to look me in the face. Through another pair of eyes, God’s, the man looks sad and searching for something.

My new ears heard his rant, “My old lady, yeah she took all of mine. You know, now I don’t have any. Sheesh” he mumbled and shook his head. The holy jeans he was wearing shuffled him back to the other side of the bus stop.

The flame erupts from my lighter, clearly showing my non-red nails; Joan is rolling her eyes from heaven. Headphones back into place, I decide for the hundredth time to quit smoking. This new thought process, awakening some are calling it, baffles me at times. One day I am filled to the brim with wisdom and knowing other days I am wondering why I cannot stand needy people. The rarest of moments, lately more frequent, I am blessed with an understanding of the world I live in.

His comment signaled me into the parameters of energy exchange. I offered the cigarette, on my own intuition, not from any begging or asking on his part. Still he felt the need to justify taking what was freely offered. Ownership placed on his relationship, “my old lady,” indicates their communication is limited to what’s on the menu, where’s the remote and are we getting horizontal later. Placed in the same room together I will place a bet they hate talking to each other. In public they stand united against all enemies; their relationship defined by longevity, titles and money. And all of this happened in one moment; the first drag of my cigarette is hurling into a stream of smoke.

Today is an awakening day. The rest of the morning pans into routine of the college student. Greeting friends, getting a cup of tea, (cut back on the coffee), and the morning conversation to stimulate the senses into action. My IQ begans a slow decline, at first attempt I change the topic of conversation, no use it is still declining. Thankfully I have a choice: stay or walk away.

This is me walking away. Yeah, I know it is a picture of a little blond head boy in overalls and no shoes but hell, I can wear whatever I want to college.

The awakening thought continues as I leave computer class feeling less able operate a computer. The time frame of learning lotus and Dos has far left us behind; I need a whole six week course to learn Microsoft Word. Hence, why I have enrolled in school to get the college degree in writing and learn how to re-size photos in a text document. The phone in my hand I am counting the hours until my favorite class, English 101. My peripheral catches a young man leaning against the wall. The two women walking ahead of me, one wearing killer red boots with two inch heels, the other tennis shoes; they were talking about text messages. In a split second, okay maybe two, I understood what was about to happen.

The women walked past the man leaning against the brick wall, one red sneakered foot propped up as he rubbed his hands together. They didn’t notice him, or perhaps failed to mention that they did. His head swiveled as the two women passed by, noticeably with the clicking of those fabulous boots. The irony is I understood why his head swiveled, boots do amazing things for a woman’s behind; hers was no exception to this classic rule. This is the kicker; he waited. The women were approximately twenty feet away and the young man spoke.

“Hey, you know where the cafeteria is?” the women didn’t respond timely enough, the young man raised his voice.

“Yo! Where the lunch room at?” his voice carried far enough for three other students to turn around. I heard the woman’s response, the one in boots and bootie.

“Did he just say what I think he said?” she asked her friend. The women laughed and continued walking.

The moment of clarity came dashing through the ten steps until I could reach the women’s restroom. My body was demanding a bathroom as my mind played the scenario in terms of the observer. So many options, as the movie What The Bleep Do We Know?,illustrates.

I mentioned earlier, the kicker was the young man waited. Why would that particular piece of information be more important that the change in his wording when re-asking his question? Or even the stance in which we found him to begin with, propped against the brick wall, rubbing hands and watching? It is all in the timing; that is how you get the female. It is all here in Lisa Powell’s: Modern Man’s Guide to Women. Chapter 3, setting the trap clearly defines four points.

© Position yourself in high traffic areas

© Appear preoccupied

© Have destination ready

© Utilize Jungle Calls

Where the young man positioned himself, outside a building near intersecting sidewalks during which multiple classes let out. The rubbing hands together may not have been the best preoccupation but it could be his first time. The destination came from his positioning, at the intersection of sidewalks, also a key factor in the trap. He waited to determine which way the women were walking. If they had turned left he may have asked if he could get a ride home, the parking lot laid that direction. Turning right put them on the path of the Computer Lab, Cashier’s office or the Library. Forward offered the bookstore, career center and the cafeteria. His guess of the destination based on the time of day, 8:30am, may have been an accurate one.

This is what made the entire exchange humorous in my opinion. He allowed them to pass in front of him to get a good look at why women choose boots as fashion accessories then waited to see which way they walked. The yelling from twenty feet away only reinforced his inability at meeting women. Maybe a better jungle call could have sealed the deal.

The noticing is important. How often do we not pay attention to the actions ourselves? Falling in love with the human race is more that pointing out what society calls flaws. The reality is I am the old man shuffling my feet blaming "my old lady” for everything wrong in my life, not enough money, love that fills me entirely or whatever goes wrong that day. I am the young man propped against the brick wall watching every woman walk by, creating fantasy relationships in my mind. I am you, reading this blog, finding myself in the pages. There is a beauty in knowing we are all connected; the smile on my face is because I know I can change.

Can you?

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