Sunday, November 20, 2005

The Finger Ballet

It's dark and the movies on. Her arm is sort of draped over the armrest. You know you should hold her hand, but maybe it's not the right time. Perhaps she'd be offended. But if you hold her hand now it might clear the tension, make the rest of the date easier. So you slowly move your arm next to hers. You gently press against her arm, and maybe she presses back. Or maybe she just adjusted because she noticed you creepily putting your arm next to hers. So you wait, and together you watch the movie.

You finally begin moving your fingers towards hers, like a spider catching its prey. Slowly, not to alarm anyone. Steady on, moving one finger at a time, hoping to be gentle. Finally, you're in position and you back off. It's a necessary setback.

So you get yourself into position again, and this time you kind of slide your hand in a little more obvious manner. She is still merely watching the movie, maybe noticing your hand, but maybe not. Your hand glides towards hers and finally, just at the perfect moment, she moves her hand and you leap grabbing hers. She smiles at you, the tension clear, your arm relaxing.

But then your arm is so in pain from all the dancing that it's too sore to hold her hand for very long.

2 comments:

Papa Bill said...

You have WAY too much patience. At your age, by the time I reached your second paragraph I'd have been rounding third base. Romance is wasted on the young. Passion, man, it trumps romance every time.

Brett E. Lassoff said...

Yeah, I also cried at the end of the movie. Maybe passion is different for every person. Some of us like to take it slow and make every part count. But then, we aren't you.