Sometimes the only way to know is to go!

Thinking about her date tonight, she turns off the shower faucet.  Her skin is tender as she pats herself dry with a thick, white towel.  Then she wraps her hair into a heavy, terrycloth turban.  She needs more lotion than usual tonight because she had been lying in the sun all day.  This is made apparent by her rosy, toasted skin and rouge, sun-dusted shoulders.  Her skin burns in a nice way, making her feel alive and sexually potent.  She  massages cool dollops of moisturizing cream into her skin.  Taking her time, she unwinds the loose terry-turban on the top of her head.  Long, damp hair unravels like curly, blonde cords clinging to her tingling shoulders.  She blows out her hair, smelling the fresh mélange of floral fragrance grow stronger from the heat of the dryer.  Pearl-pink lip gloss, a few strokes of mascara, and a wisp of powder are all it takes to flatter her already sun-bronzed face.  She slides one leg at a time into delicate black, lace panties before spraying herself with a bottle of splashing gardenias.  Tonight she’ll be wearing a black spaghetti-strap cocktail dress fashioned from an almost transparent, soft fabric (sans bra)… a soothing ensemble that her skin thanks her for.  As a last touch she reaches for a pair of crystal stud earrings and a matching crystal beaded necklace.  She looks in the mirror one last time… she doesn’t feel pretty.  She wonders if her date (a very handsome, “successful” man) will be able to notice that she doesn’t have the kind of money to spend on herself like his other dates have probably had.  She hopes he doesn’t care, but she’s afraid that he might.  She likes this man a lot.  Now as she stands in front of the mirror, focusing on what she sees as her flaws (like the freckles from the sun on her forearms) she’s beginning to feel more and more vulnerable.  The lotion she had to use this time was a generic drugstore brand that she had picked up this morning before going to the pool, not the expensive, all-natural shea body butter that she had grown accustomed to using.  It was at this same drugstore where she bought her gardenia-scented perfume… and for only sixteen dollars.  Even though the perfume has a sweet, fresh smell she can’t help but turn her pretty mouth into a frowning pout, wishing she could’ve purchased Thierry Mugler’s newest exotic fragrance.  It’s been months since the company that she works for cut her hours.  She simply hasn’t been able to find a second job.  Being that she is the single mother of a one-year-old little girl, her finances have become considerably tighter.  “Polyester instead of gossamer silk… rhinestones instead of diamonds.”  She sighs to herself, feeling cheap, ashamed, and totally unprepared.  She contemplates canceling the date… but she’s hungry.  She knows that if she meets him and he ends up not liking her that at least she’ll be able to enjoy a delicious meal (with sexy company) for a change.

Her date is at the restaurant… waiting.  He takes a seat at the bar.  He’s wearing his favorite pair of Armani charcoal-colored slacks and has paired them with a soft, light blue button-up.  His Ferragamos have been recently shined and are doing their leather- best to walk this man forward.  He knows he looks good, and as usual he feels confident… kind of.  He glances down at his white gold Rolex… the diamonds indicate that it’s 7:00.  She should be walking in at any moment, he thinks.  There’s something making him feel uneasy though as he imagines seeing her again.  A few seats away from him are a couple who have been quarreling in loud British accents ever since he arrived.  He wishes they would stop because now they’re making him nervous.  He wonders if she will like him.  His date this evening is clearly not like any other woman he has ever known.  The others were easy to please and predictable.  Ultimately they were all boring (with the possible exception of those nights when a dinner date was nothing more to him than an obligatory prerequisite for getting laid).

He sees that she has just entered the restaurant.  He feels his throat tighten as he watches her brush a few, long, curly blonde strands away from her right cheek.  She’s speaking with the hostess.  He starts to smile as the hostess points in his direction.  He stands up to greet this woman, this date, admiring the way her black, liquid-like dress seems to be pouring down through her mysterious curves.  He wants her to like him.  The day when they first met all of his usual charms had seemed to abandon him.  He remembers how she just watched him helplessly ramble on in front of her.  She had an indifferent look in her eyes as he continued to trip over his tongue.  It wasn’t until he had genuinely confused her name for someone else’s… twice (blushing redder than a ripe tomato the second time), that she seemed to soften towards him.  Vulnerability was not one of his strengths and it was at that point after they had first met when he had almost walked away without asking her for her phone number or whether he could see her again.  Yet, he had not walked away… perhaps from a desire to redeem himself with her… perhaps to discover why she was able to strip him from his usual womanizing verbal-rehearsals without so much more than a casual look in her eyes.  Tonight she returns, slowly walking towards him.  She still doesn’t feel very pretty, but he would never know.  Her stomach is growling and she hopes that he doesn’t hear it.  She wonders if he’ll still be attracted to her now after just seeing her once for such a brief time.

They have taken their seats at the dining table… He notices that she is even more attractive than he remembered… natural and fresh.  He adores the freckles on her arms and appreciates her enthusiasm to try intimidating, new foods with him from their taste buds’ flirting menu.  She loves the boyish timidity that he displays between his confident statements and enjoys his thoughtful sense of of style.  She especially likes that he’s blushing… again!

There are so many times in our lives when our insecurities and negative assumptions tend to deter us from otherwise enriching opportunities.  Sometimes it’s the fear of flying that keeps us from visiting a loved one who lives far away, or the fear of crossing the ocean that keeps us from sipping exotic moments from a glass in a city that we’ve never experienced before.  Sometimes we underestimate our abilities and because we’ve had a tough go at it before we talk ourselves out of going to an interview, a doctor’s appointment, or to a family meeting, etc. because we “know” it won’t work out to our advantage.  There are plenty of times that we pass up invitations to events because we assume that they will be a waste of our time.  How often do we protect ourselves from other people by withdrawing just because we feel that we may be rejected later on?  Sometimes it’s the very things that we don’t like about ourselves and/or the qualities in ourselves that we believe are unimportant that become the very things someone else is looking for.

Woody Allen was once quoted as saying, “Eighty percent of success is showing up!”  If he’s right then that means whenever we make at least 20 percent of the effort (car, taxi, plane, boat, bike, rocket, sneakers… picking up the phone, returning the email, responding to that text!) then reaching 100 percent of success is somehow in our favor!  As for now, I have something new to look forward to…  There’s someone waiting to meet me.  There’s an experience that I will soon discover. There’s knowledge that is going to find me.  I have no idea who or what it will be, but I can promise you this… I plan on showing up!

Amber Guidara Copyright © 2010

Amber Guidara sends out an annual newsletter that speaks about her latest work, feedback from readers, recent influences, book signings, and also includes, well… you know… other stuff! If you would like to receive an annual newsletter please visit the “Amber’s Newsletter” page on this website and simply enter your email address at the bottom of the page! It’s that easy!