I’ve always loved observing people. Historically, I’ve stayed there–more observer than connector. Lately, though, I’ve been working to shift that: to observe and connect. To tell people I see them in the moment I see them.
Over the years, I’ve trained my eye. Whenever I find something it likes, I fall in love–deeply. Not with fashion or attraction, but with what you might call contradiction, weirdness, or truth seeping out of someone so strongly that my own energetic space can’t help but peek into theirs.
That’s what happened a few days ago in a coffee shop.
I walked in and BAM. I saw him. A giant man, at least 6’5″, large-framed but not heavy, aside from a few hints that he enjoys food. His pants were what caught me first. Black denim softened by synthetic fibers, stitched in thick white thread. The cut was wider than cowboy jeans but slimmer than today’s trends. He wore a white linen button-up with sleeves rolled, spotless sporty shoes, and on his massive hands–silver. Thick rings that would weigh mine down sparkled like feathers on his. Skulls with red eyes, a snake, bold bands. He sat near the espresso machine, bathed in warm light from the window. A bald man in his fifties, with a shadowed beard, big nose, even bigger lips. And the pièce de résistance: a Toscana cigarillo, unlit, balanced in his mouth.
He oozed swagger. He looked so fucking cool I couldn’t stop staring. Not because I liked what he wore (although “elevated raver” is pretty epic). Not because I wanted him. But because he radiated. Like a dark angel glowing. His energy pulled me in. I wanted him to know I saw him–not his disguise, not his persona, not his skin suit, but him.
I had to connect.
I moved closer and noticed his phone case. Michelangelo’s The Creation of God, fingers reaching. My sign. There’s no going back now.
“Hey there,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you how much I love your vibe. It’s making me feel so lit up and I just had to tell you. Really. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He blushed. His face turned, eyes darting away. Then he looked back with a smirk, cigar rolling softly, and said in a child’s voice, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Have an awesome day.”
I rode that high until bedtime and even through my dreams. I hope felt it, too. Because goddamn, that man deserves to celebrate his own greatness.
