Isn’t it something how a passing expression or comment can turn an upside-down day right-side-up?
An invitation for a hike put a spring in my step for a few days last year. It was a hike for parents and children, and we ultimately declined, but the delivery of the invitation itself, although benign, spawned a fun diversion in my imagination, where I supposed that I was (much) younger and single, and this was an invitation for a date. All these imaginings set me all a twitter and a flutter. It was fun to think that somebody was interested in me. It was so exciting! Possibly because I dated very little in my lifetime. I never got the hang of it, and when there was a window of opportunity, I was so terrified of men and their expectations that I simply closed the window. Sigh. I wish I had learned how to date, rather than get deeply entwined with the beau du jour, wasting away so many years of my life.
A recent comment, with regard to my work. “I think you’re fantastic.” Now that made my day. I knew better than to fabricate anything fanciful in my imagination over that comment. It packed enough punch on its own, and I am grateful to have received it.
Most recently, though, is my chiropractic experience. The chiropractor is an Indian man, possibly around my age. He seems always to be blushing or flushed. It could be that he runs laps around the block in between appointments to maintain the level of fitness his profession espouses. It could be that I’ve daunted him with my belligerent questions (seeking to uncover whether there is truth or quackery –aha!– in chiropractics). Or, it could be that he secretly has a crush on me, what with me being so gorgeous, smart, and sassy, and he can’t help but flush and turn rosy when in my presence. And no, I have not been eating (much) garlic.
It’s much more fun to think there’s a secret crush. Because that reminds me of a crush I had many years ago; a crush on an Indian guy, which was, oh, so thrilling (at the time). It was unrequited (for the most part) because he was my boyfriend’s best friend. I should have just been born with a scarlet letter emblazoned across my forehead and be done with it. That was a thrilling, albeit confusing time. I felt as though I was stuck with the boyfriend, what with the words of my mother and grandmother before her, “You’ve made your bed, now sleep in it.” (He was my first, and Catholic guilt dictated that he therefore be my only, and I had not yet unyoked myself from the Catholic upbringing.) He was cold and distant, and I needed warmth and emotional interest. His friend, bless his heart, was rich in both. Summer lovin’, had me a bla-ast, summer lovin’, happened so fa-ast… Well, there was nothing more than some stolen kisses, but how sweet they were. How thrilling; how delicious. To this day, I think that ranks as the all-time best kissing experienced in this lifetime. Ah, but the summer ended, we returned to our respective universities, and closed that ever-so-brief chapter.
So, when I see le chiropractor du jour, I am briefly transported to a sweet memory of days gone by.
Yesterday, all flushed, he remarked that I look just like his cousin. Now how’s that for confusing my memory transport. I asked if she was of mixed race, since my distinctive features have something to do with my own mixed heritage (or so I assume). No, she’s fully Indian. Oh, I wonder if anthropologically there is some similarity in the peoples of Asia and India, I posed. No, Indians are actually more closely caucasian, and he went on to explain something about the peoples of Europe and parts of the Middle East, and something else about differences in peoples from Northern vs. Southern parts of India. And so the conversation ended. (I still think that it’s entirely plausible for people of Indian descent to have Asian characteristics, what with plate tectonics and all. And, ummmm, I’m no geography expert, but isn’t India sort of located in the southern reaches of the Asian continent? I’ve met people from one of the ‘Stans (Kazakhstan) who were very Asian in feature. Don’t the ‘Stans share European and Asian geography? I think I’m going to hold my ground here –ignorant as it may be– !!) Anyway. I do so like it when he blushes, because then I can pretend I have some power over him. And then I can easily flash forward the memories of those clandestine kisses that summer, so many years ago. And how much fun is that, to remember what it felt like to be all a twitter and a flutter.
