Hot Or What!

The girl sat down two tables away from me at the little outdoor café in the square. We were both clearly locals since we both chose to sit in the shade. Only tourists want to sit in full sun, shrivelling their skin in the hope that this time it will all be different from every previous occasion and they will turn that desirable coppery shade of tan they always wanted – instead of the blotchy red that actually occurs and then begins to peel round about the time they are due to return home.

That irrational belief in the triumph of hope over reality also pretty much reveals itself  in the choice of fashion and styles, as many foreigners seemingly religiously follow the latest trend regardless of suitability. One of the things I most like about it where I presently reside is that it is so cosmopolitan. If I sat in that café in the square for long enough, I swear most of the world would eventually pass by. So, people watching (as I love to do), I see some interesting sights whilst I am seated there, I can tell you – all sorts, shapes and sizes.

Now, many Spanish women are quite beautiful – often well proportioned with delightfully rounded figures that curve in all the right places, but the visitors, for whatever reason, all too frequently appear to me to be far less lucky with what God handed out to them in terms of physique, or is it down to the way they perhaps mistreat what they have? In fact, particularly with many of the Brits and the Germans, it seems to me that God (or maybe Ronald MacDonald) has just been far too damn generous, but that doesn’t stop them following fashions and trends with inconsiderate abandon.

I say all this to explain a smidgen of what sometimes tends to drift idly through my thoughts as I sit and, admittedly far too lazily, watch the world go by at that café in the square, or at a bar down by the beach, or almost anywhere else here in this superbly mixed and fluctuating society. But earlier today was different.

This particular young woman was quite tall and, though slim and nicely proportioned, she was hardly one I would have said fitted into the category of the perfect female form. She wore relatively little, as is the custom here and she had regular features with a mouth that was a little too large and very pretty brown eyes. Unlike many other Spanish women, her hair was cut fairly short and it was dyed mostly dark brown with a huge slash across the front in a deep, bright red!

That, sadly, is so typical of many frighteningly macabre casualties I observe amongst the dedicated followers of fashion, whilst I sit and slowly sip at my strong black coffee, or as was the case today, an ice cold beer – utterly unsuitable and damaging to an otherwise unremarkable body with features to match – except that, in this case, it wasn’t! This girl had style! She knew exactly what looked good on her and how the overall effect was absolutely stunning! Electrifying!

At that point, of course, she looked across and caught me staring at her. Oops! Immediately afraid she must surely know what I was thinking and that I was wishing I was perhaps thirty years younger, I tried to brazen out my foolishness and smiled somewhat sheepishly at her. My lust must have been written uncensored across my face for her to read, but she smiled warmly back at me with a friendly sparkle in her lovely eyes. Unsurprisingly, she was gently laughing silently at my desire, or my consternation, but it was a kindly amusement, indicating an acceptance and perhaps even approval of my appreciation of her charms. I was no threat, of course, she expected to be desired and she clearly enjoyed my admiration. And why not? It is what makes the world go round.

Shortly afterwards she finished her espresso and left. As she stood, she smiled once more in my direction and I raised my glass a little towards her in salute. I could swear she exaggerated the swing of her hips as she left, but that could easily just be part of my fantasy…

Speaking of fantasy, I have made several attempts to write a short story based on this experience, but each time I do that fantasy takes over and it degenerates into outright porn, so I’ve settled for an all too accurate account of my foolish behaviour. I suppose I could have made some effort towards prolonging our encounter, or gingerly tried to become a little more acquainted with this sexy, attractive vision, but it would surely only have destroyed that beautiful few moments of joy for me – and, who knows? Just perhaps it would have spoiled something fun and pleasing for her too…

Damn! There I go again!

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2 Responses to “Hot Or What!”

  1. A+ would read again

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