Eccentricities

From time to time I find myself discerning patterns in the simplest of things -- my heart beat, a 50-cent song, ping pong. Rhythm. . .

My life is all about rhythm. As I have come to apply rhythm to every facet of my life I discover even more and more rhythm in a never-ending spiralling vortex. My emotions,  my fingers on a keyboard, the wind, my dreams, writing -- it's all there.

I can't escape it -- I'm addicted.

I had walked into my friend's room to get a haircut from his roommate.

'Hi sexy!' someone called out. I looked up to see who it was. It was a girl, pretty and with this haute look from under the hat she had drawn down over one eye.

I've always believed gender doesn't matter when it comes to doing the asking out or the come-on, but for some reason I was tongue-tied.

'She's talking to you,' my friend's roommate C prompted.

'Hi,' I stammered out in a croaked voice.

She walked up to me, arms akimbo, every inch the confident lady. 'Why didn't you answer? Don't you think you're sexy?'

It was as if I had no tongue. I found myself struggling with the words that formed wherever words do.

'Er, no,' I said after a prolonged pause in which she stared me down and I pretended to set my watch.

My friend Kwame looked amused. I could tell he was trying hard to keep from laughing out loud.

My heart beat wildly and I moved as far away from her as I could. I just couldn't handle it. My face was unchanged as usual but inside I was a complete mess.

http://azuka.zatechcorp.com/2007/02/21/overture/