Can you believe this? I’ve actually sat down to write about a girl I met. Well, I actually didn’t meet her… and she is actually not a girl, but a woman… and actually, the whole incident is nothing more than me watching her from across a crowded room. Although she did catch my fancy and I have to say, I think she meant too.
Then I guess all guys think that beautiful gals we see from across a crowded room are, somehow, purposefully trying to get our attention. The fact is, she never looked at me – not even once. She never acknowledged my existence; even though she did past, not four feet right in from of me, talking and making exaggerated hand movement, as if she was trying to get my attention - like I alluded too earlier though, this probably only exists in my delusional, self absorbed imagination… but then, what if it’s not.
As long as there is hope - this is the beginning of a saying I am desperately trying to hold on to by recounting this incident in print. As you know, especially if you’ve read my essay “I Danced with an Angel Last Night”, my view of the “L” word is a bit jaded. In fact, I would have to admit that deep down inside, I still look at this whole love crap thing as nothing more than a chemical reaction that has been over emphasized by people who’s only aim is to sell romance novels, flowers, greeting cards and crotchless pantyhose. Ok, enough of that; let me get to the actual encounter.
It happened one night, right before the per-performance festivities of a musical I was invited to attend. Upon entering the Green Room, I felt a presence to my immediate right. I didn’t see her at first, but somehow just felt a presence. There were several other people throughout the room. They were all busy getting the place ready for the gathering of guests, cast and celebrities that were about to invade the room. It was in my peripheral vision that I caught sight of a bundle of black hair on a female figure wearing white pants.
Now the pants part is important here. You see, ever since I was just entering the stage of life where one starts noticing such things, it’s been the female figure in white pants that has caught my attention more than anything else. If fact, I was entering that stage of life at a time when “hot pants” were in style. I have to say that to this day; white “hot pants” on a splendid female figure just drives me crazy. But I’m getting away from the story here. Sorry, let me get back to what I started.
As I walked past, I did not turn to look at her and just kept on my way. After a few steps into the room, I realized she was one of the celebrities participating in the festivities of the musical. Earlier, I had read she was going to be in attendance and remembered seeing her in several movies… but that was several years back. At the time I was reading the information I found getting to see her in person a simple curiosity. If I had only known she would be wearing white pants I probably would have bought a new suit and tie for the occasion. With what I had seen up to this point and realizing who she was; as I turned to sit in a chair on the other side of the room I focused in on the presence that had caught my attention… and was captivated.
The room had started to fill up with people by this point. I really did not see myself as being a part of the event. This was an Okinawan musical about an Okinawan story for the benefit of the Okinawan community in California. If you ever see me the first thing you might notice is that I am not Okinawan. A close friend of mind, Michelle was the assistant produce and this was her first major production. I was there as moral support for her and to take advantage of getting to watch the inner workings of a major musical production. Being part of the Green Room gathering was an honor for me but with all of this I had relegated my presence to that of just a fly on the wall.
Watching all of the interaction between the quests, cast, dignitaries and celebrities was a real treat for me. Even though I couldn’t understand anyone because there were all speaking Japanese, I could feel the high level of excitement that filled the room. Periodically, a space would develop in the crowd to where I had a clear view of the lovely person who had captured my attention. During one instance, I was able to gaze upon her for an extended period of time.
She was sitting on a couch on the other side of the room and we were almost facing each other. At one point, she had what I perceived to be a rather intent stare that seemed to be fixed on something right behind me. But I was sitting against a wall and there was nothing behind me. I looked right at her for several second and she maintained the stare, but never looked at me.
Then my delusional, self absorbed imagination took control and told me that she is trying to get my attention. She wants me to go over and talk to her. The stare continued for several more seconds as I kept looking at her. I then thought maybe I’m right, she does want me go over there. I nervously started looking for a non conspicuous route to her but the room had become jammed with people at this point. As the opening I was looking through closed I lost sight of her. In consoling myself I thought, “Look, she is a celebrity that has been invited as part of the entertainment for the people this musical event was meant for, which isn’t me.” So I just kept an eye open for any opportunity to see her at work being a celebrity. I found that she was good at it. Whether in the mist of a group of people or one-on-one with an admiring fan, she was a delight. As she worked the room I was also able get a better at look at the whole package – so to speak.
She possessed a physical form that can only describe as a master piece in simplistic design. Although I will admit, in Texas we would call her skinny. But that night, as I watched her move around the room; slender, petit and elegant were the only terms that came to my mind; a vision that encompassed long flowing arms, raven black hair beautifully cascading down past her shoulders… vivid dark brown almond shaped eyes and a smile that could totally melt a 500 ton iceberg from a mile away, in just three seconds.
People started leaving the closer curtain time came. At one point the lovely lady made her way over to my side of the room and stood next to the food table, didn’t eat mind you, just stood there. Looking back across the room, she engaged in random conversation with some of the people who were left. I then told myself, “OK, she’s standing by herself, not ten feet from you. Go over and talk to her.” Not having a clue as to what I was going to say, I stood and took a step towards her. As my mouth was starting to form the spontaneous words (I still don’t know what they would have been) a gentleman stepped up from across the room a started a conversation with her. Before the word dammit had even finished flashing through my mind Michelle cam over and said you better go find your seat, the curtain is going up in ten minutes. Close, but no cigar - is what my favorite Uncle would have said at that moment.
The performance was great. Everyone was exhilarated as they were leaving the theater. I now made my way back up to the Green Room in order to meet up with Michelle. Then we would all go over to the cast farewell party. When I arrived back at the Green Room, everyone was exhausted but delighted because the performance was a total success. The formal festivities were over and an air of relaxation took over the remaining time in the Green Room. After about thirty or forty minutes everyone was changed, the last of the backstage guest had left and our rides to the party were all set. Since Michelle was the assistant producer I now found myself in the company of the produce, events coordinator, and others higher ups of the production. I have to say that I felt very special to be among that group, but the one person who ended up as part of the group that I took particular interest in was, you guessed it, the lovely lady herself.
As our little band of merry makers headed across the courtyard out side of the theater, towards the parking lot, I figured I had it made now. The lady was out in front of the pack and I was in the rear, but that was alright. All the formal stuff was out of the way and in the relaxed atmosphere of a farewell party, I was sure to get an opportunity to sit down next to her for a friendly chat.
Then about half way across the courtyard, the producer turned to me and said that the car he and Michelle was going in was full, would I mind riding with someone else. No not at all, was my response. I had been treated famously since arriving; being driven around in nice big cars, now leaving the theater in a group with the top people of the production, everyone dressed in tux’s and suits. After all, I am just a fly on the wall so this was no problem. Michelle was the only person in California I knew but I had been treated so nicely by everyone else that if the situation required me to ride in one of the other cars without Michelle, I was happy to oblige.
As everyone went on, I was introduced to a very nice couple. They weren’t dressed up like the rest of us but I knew they were important to the production, so I figured they were part of the backstage crew. They spoke very little English and I spoke absolutely no Japanese but we did manage to greet each other with some light conversation. Upon walking out in front of the theater; the main group, now ahead of us, turned and went to the parking lot right next to the theater where their cars were parked. Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi (sorry but I don’t remember their names and probably couldn’t spell it if I did, so if they don’t mind, I will use the name of the main character from the Karate Kid movies - since the Lovely Lady made her film debut in Karate Kid II.) turned in another direction and headed straight out into the main parking lot.
We started walking into the parking lot at a pretty good clip as I thought to myself, “Well this is alright. We should still get to the party about the same time as the others.” I then looked up and noticed that, all around us, the parking lot was empty. In looking back toward the others I could see they were already in their cars and heading out. Confused, I looked out farther out into the main parking lot and saw a small, lone, pick-up truck at the other end of the lot.
In this situation, back in Texas, I would have said to Mr. Miyagi, “Dang fella, just how late did you get here anyway.” But, in the little time I had been dealing with people who speak very little English, I found it best not to use any slang, as it confusing to them. So I just said, “You know, the whether is a lot nicer hear than it is in Texas.” They looked at me, smiled and said in a very distinct Japanese accent, “Oh, that’s very nice”, and continued on with something I perceived as gibberish. So I replied in a very distinct Texas accent, Oh, that’s very nice.” (I have found that the key to commutations in situations like this is maintaining a pleasant attitude and, most importantly, smile a lot.)
By this time I knew the Lovely Lady would get to the party ahead of me, but I figured that wasn’t going to be a problem. It was a party after all. There would be plenty of opportunity left in this evening to meet and talk to her. As I finished this thought we arrived at the mini, Toyota, pickup - almost huffing and puffing I might add. I was carrying a bag that contained my laptop computer, camera and a change of cloths in one hand and a bunch of posters in the other. I lifted the bag and placed it in the bed of the pickup as Mr. Miyagi opened the passenger side door. Mrs. Miyagi hopped in and Mr. Miyagi went around to the other side and got in the driver’s side. I then eased my way into the bench seat trying not to nudge Mrs. Myagi too much in order to get the door closed.
We were then on our way. After making a few wide and random circles in the parking lot, Mr. Miyagi found his way onto the frontage street of the freeway that ran next to the theater. Our mild conversation continued as we entered the on-ramp of the freeway. I have to say that I found Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi to be two very delightful people, even in the close quarters that the Toyota pickup provided. I also have to say that by this time, I was thinking that the others probably had already arrived at the hotel restaurant were the party was to be held. This was also the hotel where I was staying.
With still minutes left before our arrival, in my mind I could see Michelle, the Lady and the others getting out of their big fancy cars at the entrance of the hotel… everyone hustling and bustling around, all dressed up, opening the car doors of the next arriving cars… people hopping out into the bright hotel lights illuminating the entrance driveway and heading over to the restaurant. A gala event I would say.
By the time we arrived in the bright hotel lights, illuminating the entrance driveway, the scene was vacant of people. Everyone has already arrived and was at the party. So there I was, looking out of the passenger side window with visions of a gala gathering in my head, but in reality I was sitting in the bench seat of a mini, Toyota pickup with Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi and no one to open the door for me. This is okay though, I thought, because I am just a fly on the wall at this event and I am truly happy with just that.
After parking and getting out of the pickup, I gathered all my belonging and expressed my heartfelt appreciation to the very nice Miyagi’s for the ride. I then hurried up to the hotel. The restaurant the party was being held in is actually attached to the hotel and its entrance can be seen, as one enters the hotel. I took the first chance I get to look over to the restaurant, just to see what’s going on; and I see her. She was standing outside of the entrance of the restaurant, all by herself; with her raven black hair cascading beautifully down past her shoulders and those vivid, dark brown, almond shaped eyes.
Shocked, my first thought is, “Why is she standing outside the entrance of the restaurant all by herself.” Then my delusional, self absorbed imagination kicked in and told me, “Well you dumb a$$, she’s waiting for you. She noticed you were separated from the original group that left the theater and is now awaiting your arrival”. At that thought; my feet immediately and uncontrollable started heading towards her. That’s when the weight of the bag and posters I was carrying got the attention of my brains and I say, “Wait a minute, I can’t go over there with all this stuff.” So I willfully turn my feet back in the direction of the hotel entrance and went up to my room.
As the luck of the Bohemians would have it, by the time I got back down the Lovely Lady was gone and had joined in the festivities inside the restaurant. Crap is the only word that entered my mind at that point. (Not very poetic but it’ll do here, at least for this Texan.) Standing outside the restaurant, I then start looking for Michelle, my dear friend. She is the reason I was there after all. In getting to see and visit with her this trip had already been a great delight - no matter what else happens.
Not only was Michelle the assistant producer for the musical, she was the dance rehearsal coordinator and, by the looks of the way she was scurrying around here, had a lot to do with the organization of this party. When she saw me standing outside of the restaurant she came out and told me I should have just come inside. I explained to her that, as a fly of the wall at this event, I was reluctant to just walk in. She grabbed my arm, took me under her wing and led me inside, making me feel like I was a real part of the evening. Then apologizing, she said she still had a lot of things to attend to so I should get something to eat, find a place to sit and she would come over as soon as she could.
As I headed over to the food table, I figured now was the best time to make an attempt to meet the Lovely Lady. Almost immediately I spotted her, but she was surrounded by fans an admirers. I loaded up a plate with food and went over to stand next to a wall where I could figure out my strategy from there. In surveying the situation I saw no seating options close to her. I did notice that every once in a while she would turn her head as if to catch a glance of me in her peripheral vision, at least that’s what my delusional, self absorbed imagination told me she was doing. After a few minutes of trying to look comfortable standing and eating against a wall, some people I had met earlier came and asked me to sit with them. With no other options available, I gladly accepted.
I have to say that the company I now found myself in was very enjoyable. Every once and a while, Michelle would stop by to see how I was doing and chat with the other at the table. Unfortunately, the table was positioned in a way where my back was turned to the Lovely Lady. So I made a point to turn around every once in a while and look at what was going in her area of the room… basically, just making sure that she would see me trying to look at her while she was trying to look at me.
* * * * *
What is this “attraction” one feels with a total stranger from across a crowded room… an attraction that causes you to think that the other person has the same feeling as you. I will not use the “L” word here. In fact, I refuse to use the “L” word here. To me, the “L” word is a real word that should only be used in a real situation. A situation where there is eye to eye contact and verbal communication about these feeling. A situation where there are commitments being made... maybe not lifelong commitments, but commitments to seriously explore scenarios of lifelong commitments.
Throughout this entire evening the Lovely Lady of my attention never looked at me. From her physical actions, she never even acknowledged my presence. So why am I still so fascinated by her? Is this the beginnings of obsession? Or maybe, these feeling are the beginning of a word that is, letter wise, smaller than obsession, but in the nobility of our human spirit much more powerful - a word that is the foundation for all the other words. Maybe, just maybe, during the course of this evening’s event; I experienced a small part of the overall feelings that encompass the word Hope.
In this evening I was just hoping that the Lady was interested in me. I was just hoping there is an order to our lives and destiny can bring two people together from different parts of the world. In this evening maybe I found out, deep down inside me somewhere, there is still hope that the “L” word is more than just a sales gimmick for selling romance novels, flowers, greeting cards and crotchless pantyhose.
* * * * *
As the party started winding down, the Lovely Lady’s time to leave had come. The table where I and my new friends were was right next to the front door and the Lady had to pass us in order to leave. With my back to her, I didn’t realize her approaching until she was right next to me. As she passed our table - not four feet from me now - everyone stood to say their farewells. She stopped a several feet past our table and turned. Then an erg from deep inside me took hold and said; “OK, go now… go introduce yourself, shake her hand and say something stupid like you always do in these situations. Heck, she won’t remember you tomorrow anyway… this is your last chance“. It was the flood of people following her that pushed me back, away from her, and thwarted my erg.
At that point, she stood only about eight feet in front of me with nothing but a table between us. But to get to her I would have to go around the table and force my way through a large group of people. The bottom line here, as I saw it, is that this was and Okinawan event for Okinawans. I was just a fly on the wall at the event; the last thing I wanted to do was force my way past the people she was there for. So I contented myself with just watching her ply her talents at being a celebrity.
The whole time, during these last few seconds I would ever see her, I couldn’t stop thinking, “If she would just look at me, nothing major, just simple eye contact.” But she didn’t. And that’s probably for the best because with the way I was feeling, if she did look at me, I’m here to tell you, I would of probably pitched that table off to the side and started pushing Okinawans out of the way all over the place andproclaiming, “Out of my way, I’m need to talk to the Pretty Lady.” Sort of like the proverbial “Texan in a china shop”.
Just to let you know, the Lady’s departure was not the end of the evening. Michelle finally finished with her duties and we had great fun visiting with each other and all of the remaining quests at the party. We ended up closing down the restaurant at about 1 o’clock the next morning. I was totally thrilled with the way everything turned out that evening and wouldn’t have changed any of it. All in all, the Lovely Lady was just a tidbit of all the things that went on that weekend - but what a wonderful tidbit she was.
In closing, I would like to say that I now know who my next girlfriend is going to be – that is, if I ever do get to meet her.
(I did refer to my delusional, self absorbed imagination earlier - didn’t I?)
Jim
Go to:
Nihongo and Me
Memories of a Wonderful Weekend
“Pigs from the Sea” A Review
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My Close Encounter of an Alluring Kind
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