Curious. If I were forced to use one word to describe my own character it would probably be Curious. Other words that would probably describe me better could be nosy, blunt or excessively shy and dull but I guess that bottom line, I try to be positive about myself and life in general. So Curious it is.
I cannot remember one single day of my life that has not been spent, at least not to the greatest extent, by me investigating the surroundings, indulging in the spectacles of lights and colors around me, learning about the life of people and their habits.
This hobby of mine is made so much easier by the fact that many people, the absolute majority, have a tendency not to notice me at all and when this category of people do, they tend to actively ignore me. Consequently, I can (although I despise the expression) sneak up on people pretty easily and follow their everyday life and doings without anyone disturbing me. I have spent most of my life in the shopping mall just watching people, smiling inside knowing that they would probably not take notice of me even if they would look straight at me. The excitement of finding a new peculiar behavior or an interesting character I have never seen before is only superseded by the rush I experience when I find new patterns – an elderly gentleman that always halts for a second to tighten his tie and wet his lips before he enters any store in the mall, a young woman that everyday manages to sneak out of the record store celebrating a new innovative way of stealing a compact disc only to return ten minutes later and pay for the goods anyway.
Most observations are mundane, such as the fact that men pick the nose by digging with the index finger or the thumb whereas women use their ring finger or little finger and remove any itching with an outward movement as if the ambition was to fling away any foul objects as far away as possible, but I cannot resist from adding even these observations to my catalogue of human behavior.
Other reflections, nevertheless, are quite exquisite. One of my all time favorites, of erotic nature of course as erotic and sexual behavior has a tendency to always end up on my top ten lists, is Mrs. Fruit. She was Miss Fruit when I first spotted her but I am positive that she married a couple of months ago. Her daily show is still on, nonetheless.
*
My first sensation was that of being monitored but I was pretty sure even then that nobody was watching me but I was equally sure that somewhere in the mall, somebody was watching or guarding someone or something. The feeling prompted flashes of the image of sharks circling a helpless prey in deep water. Wide circles at first, narrowing, sudden fake attacks and then...
There it was, at the fruits and vegetables desk in the supermarket was a slender girl letting her hand stroke a bunch of zucchinis, then quickly removing her hand and turn away into the store. Only to return a minute later. This time, and I saw her eyes focus on the fruit from far away, her steps took her to the bananas. A quick check of a bunch of bananas and then away again.
I followed her closely, watching her repeat the routine a number of times until she had gone over all stretched fruits and vegetables in the store only to hide one specific cucumber a bit behind the others and then leave the store. Watching her stroll between different shopping-windows in the mall, I started to wonder what she was up to when she suddenly turned around, swift like a shark changing direction, and strode towards the supermarket. Radiating a sense of razor sharp precision she picked up the targeted cucumber and put it in her basket. On her way to the counter, she randomly picked up a couple of small items. After having paid, she moved hurriedly towards the parking lot and disappeared.
The woman's routine developed almost instantly to one of the regular sceneries of the mall. Almost like clock-work she arrives mid-afternoon, neatly dressed in dark blue or grayish suits. Most often, she will finally pick a cucumber but already after three weeks, she had picked up carrots and bananas, zucchinis and egg plants as well as corn on the cob and a few other stretched fruits and vegetables.
I was quite certain from the start that the reason for her daily purchases was not an urge for vitamins and fibers. Her sensual investigation of the phallus-like vegetables displayed far too erotic undertones. But I was a bit afraid that this conclusion was designed by my disturbed mind rather than founded on facts and reason. This hesitation disappeared, nevertheless, a week after she supposedly had married.
Without warning, the woman had interrupted her daily routine for several days but this particular day she had returned and had bought a yellow zucchini but instead of heading directly to the parking lot, she sat down at the Italian café in the middle of the mall.
It took a while before I realized, but when she moved a cup of cappuccino to her lips, the diamonds from her brand new ring sparkled almost unnaturally bright and I understood that her civil status had most likely changed. I guessed that this was related to her waiting at the coffee shop.
After some twenty minutes of idleness, I returned my focus to the woman since she had started to look at the watch and make movements as if she was uncomfortable. There was something about her appearance that led me to suspect that she had strained her back but I realized that the peculiar angel of her back was due to the fact that her hand was deep down in the paper bag from the supermarket while she looked casually around her, apparently trying to let her activities go unnoticed. Needless to say, she did not notice me watching her but I believe that she was successful in her attempt otherwise.
Finally she lifted the zucchini out of the bag and she let it slide along her leg all the way from her ankle to her thigh, over her knee-long skirt. Her eyes were half closed and lips slightly apart but otherwise there were little, if any, evidence showing that she was carefully caressing her legs with the vegetable. She did not wait long until she parted her legs and let the zucchini slide in under her skirt between her legs. I could see that she bit her lower lip as she raised her hips slightly only to sit down again, although this time with the new-won friend under her, secured by her clenched thighs.
Obviously a bit nervous, she let her eyes wander over people on neighboring tables, but when she felt comfortable that nobody had realized what she had been up to, she returned to her cup of cappuccino for a sip. She picked up a newspaper and made a good impression that she was actually reading it but I could see that she rhythmically tightened the muscles in her legs and wiggled her behind, as to squeeze the vegetable under her. I could also notice that her body trembled occasionally and every once in a while she would twitch her head and bite her lip.
The pleasure she was obviously experiencing did, nevertheless, not diminish her attention. Even before I noticed the disturbance to the rhythm in the mall from his half running steps, the woman had dropped the zucchini in the bag, risen from the chair and opened her arms to greet her husband from far away. This was the only glimpse I have ever gotten from him, but I have continued to spot the woman's green lovers almost daily.
*
Some people, and I have never been able to tell who or why or what will make up the difference, are quite the opposite from those that do not see me. I live my life without prejudice and I do not think that I give certain people more attention than others. I am not much of a flatterer but am pretty open with what I think at all times (this has, of course, led to disagreements more than once). Consequently, I sincerely believe that it is not my doing that lead certain people to ignore me and others to adore me.
Some people, more women than men to be honest but like I said, I have no prejudice, seem to like me straight and simple. When we meet, the mutual attraction is instantaneous.
Conversations turn into emotions, mutual reflections turn into subtle touches, the arousing feeling of the breath that bears the sweet words from a close face turns into a kiss. Sometimes I can feel that kiss for days; feel like I bear a mark of erotic sensation open for anyone to see.
