Me And The Damsel Not In Distress

A few nights back I was sitting in the lobby of a fancy hotel just off Chicago’s Magnificent Mile. Not too far from where someone took this photo.

Anyway...

It was around ten o’clock at night so the early evening people were coming in and the late night people were going out.

As I sat there, a couple coming in walked past me. An older middle-aged guy and a beautiful, beautiful young woman in her early twenties. The guy was wearing a tuxedo and the young woman was wearing a flimsy mini-dress kind of thing that was made of some kind of shimmering white and orange fabric.

As the couple walked past me, the young woman turned and looked directly at me. Our eyes met and for a split second we stared at each other. Her face was super-model perfect and, like a super-model, her face was perfectly expressionless. Then, still staring at me, she very slowly, very distinctly, mouthed the words, “Help me.”

I had no idea what was happening, but without thinking—and without breaking eye contact with the beautiful young woman—I very distinctly mouthed the word, “No,” and shook my head.

The young woman’s super-model perfect face lost its perfectly expressionless appearance because she burst out laughing. Smiling—and sparkling all over, teeth sparkling, eyes sparkling, jewelry sparkling—the beautiful young woman blew me a kiss then turned away and continued walking with her date.

I just sat here wondering: What the hell was that about?

I’m sitting here typing still wondering: What the hell was that about?

It was a weird, fun little moment—I love weird, fun little moments!—but it’s hard for me to use it in a poem or story because I have no real idea what happened.

I’m thinking the beautiful young woman and I simply engaged in what a behavioral psychologist might describe as play behavior and I’m thinking play behavior is pretty cool behavior but mostly I’m thinking: What the hell was that about?