DRINKING IT ALL IN

There are people who demand one's complete attention.  In the case of some of them, that is a good thing. These are the individuals one is mighty pleased to know.

One should always associate with such people.  Their conversation enthralls, their presence by itself erases care.  This is not about amorous interest, but companionship and camaraderie - in case you were wondering.
Indeed, the love of one's life should also be that way, but how sad if you only knew one person like that!  Colleagues, comrades, co-conspirators, even drinking buddies and fellow miscreants, are among those that enthrall.

I am tickled pink that I know several such.

One of them I'm living with. We aren't lovers, just old friends.
I've mentioned my apartment mate before, many times, so I shan't bore you with further descriptions of her.
Suffice to say that she still surprises the heck out of me.

There are others.



SLIVOVITZ & TANG VODKA

Four of them are in the East Bay, a place which I have described elsewhere as a vast armpit, from Richmond in the north to Fremont in the south. An ugly festering expanse of mediocrity, middle-class values, and vulgarity, that borders on seedy and depressing, with pockets of self-satisfied pretendeurs (Berkeley) and stuck-up snotwads (Piedmont).
There is no 'there' there. At least, no there worth being there.

That a culinary student, a teacher in levis, a mother of rabbits, and a scholarly tax accountant, manage to maintain their sanity in the East Bay is amazing; one has to be crazy to do so.
They have a few characteristics in common with each other and with this blogger.
You don't need to know more about them than that, as it might tell you too much.


Several thrilling people are in San Francisco. 


RYE WHISKY

One of them is a vibrant redhead a few years younger than myself, whose eyes sparkle.  Without realizing it, her husband looks innocently happy when they're together, like a tall rangy looking Kermit the Frog. They are a couple who delight in each others company, and infect others with an equal joy.
Both of them like big cigars.  Whenever they are at the Occidental the mood is lighter, the lights brighter, the company more enjoyable.
I am attracted to their vicinity as if by a magnet, and even if I am talking to someone else the conversation is much more alive. 
 

SCOTCH AND TEA

Then there's the person half my age from somewhere south of Bombay, who has an ability to bat wits and float subjects which, in this country at this time, makes him an anomaly, as I suspect it also did in India.  He's going back there soon, but I hope he returns.  Whenever he drops by the cigar club I want to prolong the moment.
Imagine a mind that veers from the Elizabethan period to the modern age, with quick stops in Rome, Greece, and Persia. 

He does not smoke. That isn't a failing.


One gentleman whom I encounter occasionally is married to a busty tattooed woman.  Together they are an enchanting couple, but they do not have many interests in common. What binds them is shared wit and good humour, and a conversational flexibility that renders fascinating even subjects I had seldom thought about.

There are things I never knew about Buffy The Vampire Slayer.


Also deserving mention is a waitress at one of the local noodle shops.  It isn't more than a social interest, as we do not think in the same language, and do not speak enough of each others tongue to talk to each other.  Other than that she doesn't like bittermelon I know nothing about her.  But she has lovely bright eyes and a warm smile.  She's a very nice person, considerate of others, and I like seeing her interact with people.

Observing someone so nice is an innocent pleasure.

I say that without even a trace of the dirty-old-man aspect which you might expect from me, having read some of the rather rowdy stuff I've previously written.


I like watching people.  When there's something in their face which appeals, and if they show wit, and a sincere regard towards others, I'm hooked.

Even when they silently betray sadness, they charm, utterly.

Eyes that are alive, and a keen intelligence, are infinitely engaging.

I've always loved faces that betray their owners, and show, without them even realizing it, that they are splendid people, with rich minds in constant motion.


I wonder, though.  If someone is wonderful to look at and talk to, does that help or hinder at certain moments?  Can it interfere with romance?

Perhaps it leads to embarrassed mumbling at each other.
Awkward admiration or nervous timidity.
And shyly holding hands.




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