The Smile—and a Split Second Thought
so you stand there…waiting to reach the twelfth floor, and he comes in.
With one quick glance in his direction, you’ve broken your game—but
he didn’t notice. Actually
that’s probably a good thing because your original game wouldn’t have worked
anyway. He smiles.
Suddenly your mind takes control. There
are so many ways you can interpret that smile.
In an instant you are a born again, revived believer in love at first
sight. You wonder if this is G-d’s
little plan, and then you wonder whether it’s plain foolish to use
spirituality in reference to such a miniscule gesture.
Your belief in such a love is so unexplainably illogical and mystical
that you try to restrain yourself from falling down that track in your mind. But
wait… isn’t your faith in religion just as mystical? You’re a great
believer of one, why are you such a skeptic of the other? If you fear G-d’s
punishment, why are you ignorant of Cupid’s wrath?
And then you stop yourself from going there and take a turn in another
direction—right back to that smile. Just
imagine what a story you two could amaze your future grandchildren with.
How the elevator door opened, he smiled at you and the both of you knew
that you’d spend the rest of your lives together. Suddenly, you are so grateful to his mother.
What a remarkable woman she must be to have raised this perfect creature
and instilled in him such manners. If
you think about it, it’s rare to find someone that hasn’t lost his chivalry
in this deranged evolutionary process of equality.
Man has taken so much pride in his evolution from ape to human that he
has nothing left but to turn back into the former at the first signs of
political correctness. Survival of
the fittest has turned into a competition between man and woman, rather than one
of men for woman. And just
think how lucky you are for meeting this man—this wonderful exception to the
rule of modern romance. Isn’t it
astounding how this “bad gene” just skipped over him.
It must be Divine…how else could you explain this fortunate
coincidence? You wonder what he’s
thinking—is he picturing your future together, too… Your wedding, your kids, your house, your dog?
Somehow, that cliché-ish image
of you two sitting in quilted chairs at ninety doesn’t even appeal to you, so
you’ll forgive him for neglecting that one.
You glance back at him and he’s looking at the floor.
Suddenly it hits you. What
if he’s really thinking about that meeting he’s gotta get to, or
professional sports—that mystifying distraction that even Cindy
Crawford can’t compete with? The
mere thought of this typical male ignorance makes you want to smack him across
the face. How dare he picture some
sweaty oversized jock rather than imagining how you’d look in your wedding
gown—what a fool. Here you
are…the love of his life, standing inches away from him, and all he can think
about is himself and his childish interests.
Pig! But then you remember,
“Wait a minute, I’m not a psychic. I’m not even good at understanding
other people when they’re telling me
about themselves, so how can I judge this poor guy who could very possibly be
thinking of me at this very moment?” Now
you just wanna hug him. What a
sweetie. When he could be thinking of asinine athletes, he’s thinking of you. “Excuse me, do you know what time it is?”…he speaks.
You examine your watch thinking that if it takes you too long to reply
he’ll think you’re some sort of an idiot.
“8:30,” you say with a broad smile.
He glances at you with this warm look and a grateful nod that is
unmistakably true love. Of
course…what else could it be? Now
that you’ve had this extensive conversation with him, you feel that a
momentary glance in his direction is in order. You study him with the speedy skill only a woman could
possess. Now that you have his
image photographed in your mind, you can analyze every detail while staring at
the numbered buttons on the wall. His
slicked black hair reaches down to the middle of his neck and frames his
structured face by casually curling forward behind his ears.
He’s tall, but not too tall, and well-built, but not gladiator size.
He’s just right. In a way,
his pin-striped suit makes him look like he’s a member of the mob, but his
angelic justify it. He’s just a
businessman…fresh out of college—still uncorrupt.
This observation makes you wonder how you
have the wisdom to scrutinize him in such a matronly way; and then you realize
that it’s not just you. If he
were to see himself, it would all be clear to him, as well. So now you’re back to the image.
You look at his wrist, and what do you see? A watch. How
adorable. The door opens and you
both look up to see what floor you’re on.
Twenty-three. You wonder if
this is his stop…because there’s only one more floor left. You are perfectly aware that your twelfth floor passed
minutes ago, but that’s okay. He
doesn’t know where you’re going. Besides,
he adores you. The whole “time” incident was practically a declaration
of love. No one gets on, and the
doors close. One more floor left.
If you don’t get off here, he’ll think you’re the elevator
operator. Now, the door opens.
You both get out. Suddenly
you realize that he’s looking around the hall with the same embarrassed
confusion that you are ashamed to betray. You
feel like you’ve been through so much with him.
Twelve whole floors…and an entire lifetime as the happiest couple on
earth. The two of you wander
around, hoping that the other will find the office that each of you have
scandalously imagined up. You keep
walking…pretending. You start off
glancing at each other in a businesslike fashion.
Eventually, these glances become more and more familiar.
It starts. He knows your
story, and it’s the same as his. You’re
not embarrassed anymore. After
roaming this completely fateful twenty-fourth floor, the two of you stop at the
elevator doors. They open, and you
get on. They close.
To those of you who aren’t satisfied with having the elevator doors slam on your face, know that these “elevator buddies” both missed their meetings, but had an enchanting ride down the elevator, after which they lived happily ever after.