November 16, 2019:
A long time ago on a Market Street far far away I walked past a strip club on my lunch break. Beneath the awning a very beautiful black haired girl locked eyes on her way in. It felt real. But when I realized she probably worked there I somehow felt disappointed, and she saw that, and it hurt her.
A long time ago on a Woolloomooloo waterfront I locked eyes with a beautiful Australian blonde, while buying ice cream. It would have been the moment to invite her to join me, but I was loyal to my not-yet-ex and besides, I don't do that.
A long time ago outside a London pub I locked eyes with a beautiful English blonde who then shook her head, to herself, as if to say, Wait, what am I doing? Right after I broke eye contact and moved away.
There was the beautiful paralegal at the firm where I was a temp. The gorgeous college girl at my friend's apartment. The beautiful high school girl in the red bowler hat at the kid's train in Balboa Park. My friend's lovely friend at the band house in Austin. The gorgeous 19-year-old blonde during antiwar work in 1990-91.
There's always some reason I don't make things happen. Having to do with depression, broken heart, or simply mistrust of my own judgment, where every eventual disaster seemed like such a good idea at the time.