THREE FRIENDLY SMILES

I spent a long time talking to Lauren C today, a New York Italian real estate agent in her late twenties. She has typical features for a New York Italian girl—dark hair and eyes, a beautiful face, a thick waist and round lips, a shy but friendly personality, and breasts like a bonanza. She speaks with the cool rasp of a smoker. She is sweet and we get along like a field trip. When she smiles, she is inviting. And her smile adds extra meaning to anything she says. “I’d like to run a marathon,” she might say, her voice steaming like vapor. And her lingering after-smile adds, “And my panties are sweaty wet right now.” She could never say a word and still tell a secret.

We will never be friends.

Later, I talked to Stephanie L. She seemed rather interested in me, though I’m sure it was just my imagination. She is a teacher—9th grade, English. She is a very sweet Michigan girl. Light skin and blond hair. I don’t know how they come out there in Michigan, but this one’s not so innocent. I will see her again on Friday for a workout at the gym, because that’s my job—to sell personal training sessions by first giving a free one. She expressed extreme delight in the idea, smiling nicely in acceptance. But her smile was, well, sinister, like a spider surveying a heavy web of flies. She’s the girl next door with the deadbolt thrown open but has a bear trap hidden just inside the entry.

We, too, will never be friends.

But there was one other smile that was very different from these. Emily's smile captivated me. I found it hard to concentrate when she smiled, because it was simply a beautiful smile. No hidden messages, no complications. In her smile, I could see stars, it seemed. Again, probably just my imagination, but I can't be sure. She was a little reluctant about committing to training. We sat opposite each other in the manager’s office, a glass table between us, discussing the matter. I tried to discern her level of seriousness towards buying training session, and I tried to make the sale, but she kept doing that smiling thing with the stars. Usually at this point, I get a little pushy to make the sale. I'd toss in an couple of extra session and start the bidding at a higher price, or maybe I'd try to squeeze a few more sessions out of her wallet, but she just kept doing that smiling thing. So fine, forget it. Want to think about it? Sure...I didn’t care about no sale. Who care's about the sale? Here, tell me what it is that you want.

And she just kept doing that smiling thing.

I think Emily and I will become great friends.



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