Member-only story
The Deja Vu Effect of Your Eyes
Maybe we met once in a dream long ago.
Have we met before?
I’m so sorry — that seems like the worst pick-up line, doesn’t it?
(You don’t look happy, and I’m thinking I should have just passed by your table. But the gaze you have makes me think of summers and girls I thought I’d forgotten. Those summers feel so far away, and maybe I just want to grasp something that seems familiar.)
Would you like a drink? I can pay for another of what you’re having.
(If you were less polite, you’d probably get up right now and head for a safe space. Maybe you’re going to pretend you’re waiting on friends — or, worse, you’re going to say you have to take a call even though your phone’s in your purse. But there’s something about you — I can’t put my finger on it. I want to unravel the mystery of what you’ve done to my brain in only a few minutes.)
Hey, I don’t mean to be a creep — but maybe we can talk for a few minutes? I know — desperate, not a good look.
(You want to get out of this situation, I see it from the way your eyes narrow as your mind goes through all the alternatives. It’s okay; I’ll wait. I may be awkward, but I’m persistent. Doesn’t that count for anything at all?)
