Them
I saw her in a smoky night club. She’s what my cousins would call: “A pretty young thing”. Her face perfectly sculptured and a figure to match.
Them
Her
I saw her in a smoky night club. She’s what my cousins would call: “A pretty young thing”. Her face perfectly sculptured and a figure to match. My attention was drawn to her the second I walked in, which was pretty easy, seeing that she was dancing on a chair and all. My friends and I settled near her table and my attention kept drifting towards her. She danced, her movements bold from liquor. I watched fascinated and looked around at the rest of the group with her. The men looking up at her approvingly, nodding to the beat she danced to. One can almost smell their self-importance and pride from the way they looked down on those around them. Or from the way they have a neat collection of thoroughly overpriced bottles on the table. A signpost of those willing and able to spend without a second thought. The waiters eager to serve them, ceremoniously carrying the bottles. The pretty young lady eager to please and bedazzled by quick glamour, is willing to step up on her chair and dance for them. And all eyes, including mine mostly, were on that table. She was literally on top of the club at that moment, but her eyes under the heavy makeup were lost. A slightly hungry look crossing her expression for a second. Hungry for the attention and approval. Hungry for the toasts in her name and the eyes of the few who didn’t notice her moving. It struck me how such a beautiful creature would measure her worth by the approval of others, the lusty looks or the jealous glares of other insecure ladies.
Him
I saw him when getting drinks from the counter of the very same club. A noticeable young man leaning by the bar, a drink in hand. He still held the look of most young men making it out to the world, determined, sharp eyed and still a believer in his unending ability to achieve greatness. He was dressed with care, making every detail seem effortless, although a closer look would suggest otherwise. He seemed like a guy who wanted to look like someone on his way to success. The lady bartender had only eyes for him and ignored my attempts to get her attention. Next to him stood two delighted ladies that he leaned to talk to and occasionally dance with. While waiting for my drink, I watched as he charmed the ladies and offered drinks, and saw the slight cringe on his face when he reached for his wallet. He would keep that charm on for as long as it took, offer drinks to the ladies while nursing a single one himself. Once in a while, he would glance at the VIP table where the spenders sat on clouds of success surrounded by gorgeous ladies. At that moment, his charming face would freeze and the bright eyes fade in a flicker with unmistaken longing. There, is where the good life is. There were one left the house without stuffing a folded bill at the back of the wallet for transport back. There where one spends with a slightly bored look and ladies dance on chairs for the fun of it. It struck me once again on how such a good looking, promising young man would thirst for recognition and appreciation. Even if those who would drink his wallet dry and probably never cross paths with him again.
Them
So, I saw a pretty young woman and a promising young man in a club. This is way too much observation for a person hanging out, I know, but the thing is, I saw them! They however, do not see themselves, which is sad, because it’s simple and easy when you see yourself and let yourself be. And the regrettable part is, the pretty young lady and the promising young man, do not see each other.
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salma@dadasdiary.com
Location
Currently residing in the Netherlands