Thursday, November 14, 2019

Wanting to be Wrong


I hope I’m wrong, but I think he was buying what she was selling…and vice versa.

As I waited for our baggage to appear on the carousel, I couldn’t help but notice a couple standing nearby.  She was holding a bouquet of red roses.  My guess was that they were presented to her by the man who was holding her hand.  I assumed that he had just greeted her with the roses as she had flown in from somewhere to see him, and that they were waiting for her baggage.

Because of his tan, I guessed him to be the Florida resident.  He was not an unattractive man, but he was an older man expensively dressed and with dyed hair in an attempt to look younger, I guessed.  He looked financially well off and confident.

She was young…very young compared to him.  I would have thought she was a daughter but for the constant hand-holding and repeated kisses on her cheek.  She was accepting of the affection, but not reciprocating.  She had pretty features and bleached blond hair…not natural…I could see the roots in her part.  Her very slender figure was accented with skin-tight black pants that had a bit of fringe around the ankles.  She was wearing very, very high heeled black and silver shoes.  I did not see her move during the time we were close, so I could only guess that she could probably walk in them.

Through my mind drifted thoughts like:
*I wonder if he threw away a perfectly good age-appropriate wife for this trophy.
*I wonder how many Viagra he will have to pop in order to keep up with her.
*She doesn’t look scared, so I guess it is consensual.
*I wonder how long they have known each other and under what circumstances they met.  Have they met before?  Is she seeing him in person for the first time?
*What is she thinking?
*I’m pretty sure I know what he’s thinking.
*Hey, Ruth….it’s none of your business.
*Ah, but it breaks my heart.

Here are two people thinking they are each going to satisfy their own needs.  They don’t understand what their needs actually are.  Their understanding of the other person’s needs is very superficial, or perhaps, even irrelevant to them.

I eventually moved from standing behind them to standing in front of them so I wouldn’t have to keep looking and wondering.  Except that out of sight was not out of mind.  I have thought of them repeatedly over the past couple of days.  I think of them with great sadness for the emptiness they are each trying to fill.

Sometimes I really wish I was wrong in my assumptions.