Mentalechoes

I walked out the front door this morning and turned my head to look at a woman crossing the road. She was very attractive, wearing tight blue jeans tucked into black leather boots that came all the way up to just below her knees. I couldn’t take my eyes off her gorgeous body and so didn’t see the phone box in front of me until I walked straight into it. Or not so much in to it, but into the plexiglass door which made a loud banging noise as it stopped me dead in my tracks. Some people in the bus stop saw me headbutt the phone and one guy started laughing so much he tripped on the sidewalk gutter and fell onto the road. The girl I was looking at saw the man trip and she started laughing, and then a few steps later she tripped herself! It was all really fucking odd, but I guess, what goes around comes around!

I was late for work again, or I suppose I arrived at work at my usual time of a quarter past ten, and one of the nice girls at work was at the front reception.
“Good morning, you”, she said with a smile! Our eyes held together for a fraction of a second longer than normal. A look and a feeling passed between us, and I wondered what it meant. Her hair was done differently and her lips had on a very pale red lipstick that made her look quite beautiful. It was probably nothing. Most likely nothing.
“Good morning to you too”, was all I could think to say! I couldn’t think of anything witty to impress her with. For some reason, when I am near her, I get lost for words.

A few hours later I was sitting at my desk facing the window which stares out to an adjacent office block about 40 odd meters away. A red haired woman in her early 40’s came to the window in front of mine and opened it up, leaned out and lit up a cigarette. I lay back and waved and smiled a big charming smile all for her. She waved back at me, took a drag on her fag and then lifted up her free hand and started fluffing her hair. We stared at each for a few minutes, me sitting still in my chair, and her standing at the window smoking. It was strangely erotic and I could feel the heat building in my chest as my heart beat faster as we explored each other with our eyes.
“What are you looking at”, came a voice just behind me?
“Nothing… why”! It was one of the tech guys who works in the department next to mine. I was silently pissed off that he had to come over now of all times, wanting conversation. Reluctantly I swiveled my chair around and faced him. “What’s the problem”?
“So do you have kangaroos where your mother lives”?
“Huh… what? Listen I’m kinda busy, do you need help with anything on the network, cause if not I have to get back to it”! The tone in my voice was sharper than I intended it to be. I was going to say sorry but before I could he said, “okay”, and turned and left. I spun around quickly keenly hoping to continue our little game but she was gone. The window was closed and the room was empty. It was like she was never there.

Later on I saw that tech guy getting a coffee, so I went over to the nescafe machine and made one for myself. I didn’t want it, but I did want to say something to him because I felt a bit bad the way I shut him down before.
“Yeah my mum has loads of kangaroos around her place on the Gold Coast”! It was a total fucking lie, but why spoil a stereotype. It doesn’t hurt anyone to believe this. After all my government spends good advertising money making Europeans believe this in the first place, so who am I to start spreading the truth!
His eyes light up, I figure out of me taking an interest in him for a bit, and for confirming something he has probably been thinking about that day. “I knew it you know. I was watching this show the other night on kangaroos and I was sure they would be near your village where you grew up”.
“Yeah, we don’t them villages, but…”.
“That girl you were looking at, she has a boyfriend”.
“What girl are you talking about”. I was trying to play cool but I didn’t think it was working.
“The one that was making your face red when I came over before”.
Jezuz, was it that fucking obvious, I thought to myself. That’s really desperate.
“You seem like a desperate guy right now, you should get a girlfriend. I think you need to have more sex”.
“I… look desperate… do I really look fucking desperate”? My voice was all exasperated and hot sounding in my own ears. I just hope I didn’t say that too loud.
“Sure you do! But you can get laid all the time right?! You’re Australian. Dutch girls all want to fuck Australians”.
Right there was another myth that somehow seemed to have made its way into the local urban folklore. I don’t know who made this one up - was it the Aussie government - but it was so far off the mark it may as well have been shot in the other direction. Was there any point trying to debunk it? Not really! I said see ya later and went back to my workstation.

On the metro home I stood opposite a women in her late twenties that was at least a half part asian. She reminded me of someone I used to go out with a long time ago. Her perfume smelled a day old, but still very exotic. Made more so by her asian features. Her eyes were hypnotic and try as I might I couldn’t help but look from time to time. She didn’t look at me though. I started to figure it might be true; that maybe I was desperate. Chicks can smell desperation a mile away. Is that the reason I can’t meet women? I doubt it, but as an excuse, it will do me for now!

Padwanna!