Stupid Girls

Sunday, July 11, 2004


You are reading

Calm, contained and grinning, she flows into our company.

Side conversations and chatter knit us in a loose bond of semistrangers, gathered for a common purpose.

Eventually, we all gather at one table and conversations turn to tangents of that purpose. She's sitting across from me.

I become engrossed in conversation about a subject that really interests me. It's a subject few people would have noticed.

But my conversation companion is glad to know someone noticed and appreciated what I saw. We become deeply involved in the subject, to the point where others' attention is drawn to us. Now, just about everybody's listening to my companion's perspective.

After awhile, other subjects surface. But we're focused directly on the project now.

Questions arise about logistics, methods, organizing.

She knows. She begins to speak.
Everyone quiets to hear her.

I listen to her war stories, her suggestions, her insights, her opinions of the purpose.

She's right. Nobody questions her authority. The only questions are for clarity.

She holds us in her experience for most of the gathering.

Her words unfold realities we hadn't begun to consider. Suddenly, everybody knows this purpose is very important. We become excited and more committed to making it happen.

I watch her. Lashes flutter. Hands gesture. Lips purse.

She's funny. She's perceptive. She's very organized. She's realistic. She's passionate. She's not cynical, in spite of it all.

I always think she's beautiful.

Tonight, she shimmered and pulsed and twinkled.

Tonight, she danced and swayed and balanced.

Tonight, she was so pretty!

As we parted, her face changed.

She looked openly into my eyes, happy with me. Her face opened into a warm glow.

This magnificent, powerful creature was smiling, like that, at me!