Lunchtime Escapade

My lunch hour had finally come, and I had no idea what to do about lunch. So I decided to do what I often wind up doing: I’d just wander around from place to place until something caught my eye.

Of course, at lunchtime in White Plains on a workday, much more than food is likely to catch the eye. I can’t say I know quite how it is from the female perspective, but from my perspective the place is a girlwatcher’s dream.

So I walked out of the building and down the street towards Martine Avenue. First food place I saw was Bagel Emporium, at the corner of Martine and Court but on the other side of Martine from where I approached. As good as their sandwiches are, though, and as happy as I would be with yet another chance to see Susie, their newest employee (just GORGEOUS!), somehow the prospect of a bagel sandwich for lunch just didn’t do anything for me.

The first food place I actually passed, though, was Sea World, a buffet-and-grill place on my side of Martine Avenue. Sea World had long been my regular Saturday afternoon lunch spot back when I was driving paratransit, but since then, after hearing others’ stories of sickness due to their dishes (and frequent visits from the Health Department) the place had become Salmonella World in my estimation. So I passed them by.

Once I actually approached the corner, the field became wide open. On my side of the street there was Renato’s (not in a million years, or at least not as long as Tony Ptomaine was the cook) and Tighe’s, and across the street there was Freshie’s (if all I wanted was fruit), Anthony’s (pretty good sandwiches, and cheap too), and Coney Island (not what it used to be, but Chris the owner keeps trying).

Then around the corner on Mamaroneck Avenue was Blimpie’s, Nicky’s (the ‘subtitle’ on the store sign, ‘White Plains White Pizza Inc.’ says it all), and every other type of eatery. But before I could even process all these eateries, two things stood out on my mind. They were not about food, they were about Martine Avenue itself.

One was that there was one person, and one person only, on the sidewalk on my side of Martine Avenue going all the way down to the corner of Mamaroneck Avenue. Usually the sidewalk on both sides fo Martine would be swarming with people, but yesterday, for whatever reason, taht wasn’t the case; they were all on the otehr side of teh street, except one.

But that one…

She had her back turned to me, adn was walking away from me. I, uh, tend to notice women’s figures, enough so that I can recognize by figure women that I don’t even know by name. I said that to say that I didn’t recognize this woman’s figure. And she seemed to have gone to great lengths to make it noticeable.

She was wearing what appeared to be a sleeveless beige heather knit dress, tightly hugging every curve of her perfectly proportioned body. Well, not quite ‘perfectly’ proportioned; some might say her butt was kind of big. Not me, though. 8o)

The hem of the dress stopped a bit above the knee, giving a nice view of nicely muscled legs. Not grotesquely so, but it was obvious that this woman worked to get this figure. She also sported a big, messy… OK, not messy, but “luxuriant” mass of blond-streaked wavy brown hair, the kind I’d love to run my fingers through.

She was walking like she was on a mission, definitely had somewhere to go, and not just out there to be seen. I couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like from the front.

Right when I posed that question in my mind, she stopped and began slowly looking around, as if trying to locate the source of a sound or odor or something. When she was finally facing me, she flashed me a beautiful smile. I got an eyeful of a shapely torso and a very pretty face.

Now, when I find myself face-to-face with an attractive unknown woman, I can become anything from smooth and charming to barely aware that she’s there, depending on the time of the year, time of the month (no jokes, OK?), time of day, how much money in my pocket, what (and how much) I’ve eaten, and so on. But, too often, my automatic response is nervousness, and that’s just what happened yesterday.

I turned away, trying (probably in vain) to make it not so obvious that I had been watching her to begin with, trying to gauge how long
since I had turned away so I could turn back again and know she wasn’t still standing there watching me.

When I finally turned back toward her, she had crossed Mamaroneck Avenue and was proceeding away from me on the next block of Martine Avenue. But immediately upon my seeing her, almost as if she physically sensed my eyes on her, she stopped, turned to face me, and began walking in my direction.

When she got to the corner of Mamaroneck, the light was red, so she had to wait. Taht gave me a chance to check her out from a distance. She had crossed the street and was heading up my block before I realized that I was still watching her. I hadn’t turned away.

I noticed as she approached that she had a set look on her face, like she was on the way to accomplish some mission. When she was about three arms-lengths away from me, she stopped and grinned at me. Now, she was looking directly into my eyes as she grinned, but still I couldn’t process that it was me she was grinning at.

As if she’d read my mind, she directed her eyes first to my left, then to my right, then back at me. I thought maybe she and someone else had arranged some trick for me. Maybe one of these women I had admired from afar had noticed, or had it brought ot her attention, and decided to repay the “favor.” But when I did a slow 360 to spot her accomplice, I didn’t see anyone. We still had the block to ourselves.

When I turned to face her again, I found that she had moved a bit closer to me. She was now two arms-lengths away.

I thought, “This can’t be happening!”

She smiled and nodded. Mentally I said, “It *can* be happening?”

She nodded again.

Nah, couldn’t be. Could it? I had to do some quick figuring. I thought, “Two and two.” She held up four fingers.

*You know what I’m thinking?* She nodded again.

*This is impossible,* I thought, even though I had already seen enough evidence to know it *was* possible. I started thinking of all kinds of stupid things to prove this wasn’t happening, finally falling back on that stupid old hip-hop chant, *Throw your hands in the air, and wave ’em like you just don’t care!*

She obliged by raising both arms over her head, fingers outstretched, gyrating as if to music, turning slowly in a circle as she danced. Gave me a *nice* little show, in fact.

You wouldn’t think that with this shapely woman dancing for me I’d notice much of anything else, but I did notice and think it strange that no one came from or went into any of the stores on our block of Martine Avenue through this whole exchange. No one parked their car on the block, and no one moved the cars already parked there. Strange.

When she’d finished her dance, she continued grinning, adding a little exaggerated pucker from time to time. I thought, *So somehow you know what I’m thinking.” She nodded.

*Can you… send your thoughts to me?* I wondered. She shook her head ‘no.’ *That’s too bad,* I remember thinking. She shrugged, still smiling.

Just then I noticed that what I thought was a dress was actually a top and a matching skirt. Just as I began to wonder what she looked like under that outfit, she gathered the bottom of her top in her hands and began to pull up on it. An alarm began to sound in my head, and I thought, *Hey, we’re in the street!* She shrugged and pulled her shirt back down.

*So what now?* I thought. She puckered again, but this time she held it.

*I see,* I thought. Apparently she wanted me to kiss her. Well, if an attractive woman I’ve never seen before wants me to kiss her, right out of the blue, who am I to say no?

Without a second thought, I approached her, arms extended in front of me, and…

She shook her head and intercepted my arms, pushing them back toward me.

*You don’t want my arm around you?* I thought. She nodded and puckered.

*I see.* She evidently wanted this kiss to be lips and tongue only.

She’d also evidently detected that thought, because she enthusiastically nodded, as her smile grew even wider.

OK. I decided to play along, clasping my hands together behind my back as I stood there, not a foot away from her, smiling nervously. She held her arms at her sides and approached.

When our lips touched, somehow the sensation didn’t match what I had anticipated. Likewise when something entered my mouth. My instinct said it had to be a tongue, but somehow it didn’t feel like a tongue. I opened my eyes and saw nothing but her closed eyelids, not an inch away from my open eyes. So I should have been sensing lips and a tongue against mine. Instead I was feeling… it felt like a finger?!

Next thing I know, I was sitting bolt upright at my desk. I looked at the clock and saw it was noon. I had fallen asleep at my desk, lying face down with my mouth against my right hand, my tongue pressing against my right index finger.



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