May 13, 1986
In what has to be one of the strangest situations of my life, I met a woman today. A very... interesting woman. I was driving home from work, through what is easily the ritziest section of the state of Washington, and as I passed a perfectly enormous mansion there was a tiny woman, dressed all in black and banging on the gates with a tire iron. Obviously enough, she had been locked out of her estate (the gates, she told me, are electrified. I believe her, although I don't understand how she could bang on them with a metal projectile without being electrocuted. Perhaps she meant the barbed wire at the top was electrified.) When she heard my car approaching she turned around and waved her arm, although I didn't notice this last for a moment because its girth was just about that of the bars of the gate. Of course I stopped anyway. She was attractive in a very... she seemed rather... actually, she's quite difficult to describe. As far as the basics go, her hair was a unique shade of blond, pulled back tightly into a bun from which no stray strand could possibly escape, and her features were exquisitely proportioned and very clear-cut. It was a beautiful face, but there were no curves to it. And her eyes were hidden by sunglasses, even though I came upon her around nine pm. She explained that her corneas are sensitive to light. Ah, well.
Even if the beauty she possessed was distinctly - the connotations for "unique" aren't what I'm looking for here; I suppose you'd have to say "odd" - well, anyway, despite that, she was nevertheless a beautiful woman, and I expected to revert immediately to my Criles Nane persona. However, I was quite at ease in inquiring if she needed help, and if I could be of service. Perhaps it was that she did need help. I wasn't the supplicant in this exchange. That may have made all the difference. At any rate, I gave her a ride to the nearest town, where she was able to phone her house and instruct her servants to let her in. She was quite harsh with her maid on the phone, and spoke of firing her; but then, the woman did do wrong to lock her mistress out of the estate. Quite likely she was drunk, or entertaining inappropriately.
The conversation between Maris - I'd forgotten to mention it, that's the name of the woman whom I rescued - and me was minimal during the ride to the town and then on the ride back. It was an uncomfortable silence, I suppose, but a very different kind of discomfort than that which I generally experience in the company of an attractive woman. At any rate, I did manage to gather the courage to give her my phone number at the end of the ride. I told her that if she ever needed help again, she could call on me. A good way of salvaging my self-esteem if she doesn't call.
So we'll wait and see. In the meantime, I've been reading an intriguing first-person account of one woman's struggle with obsessive-compulsive disorder and its impact on the sufferer's personal and romantic interactions - it truly sheds new light on the inner workings of the obsessive-compulsive patient's mind...
In what has to be one of the strangest situations of my life, I met a woman today. A very... interesting woman. I was driving home from work, through what is easily the ritziest section of the state of Washington, and as I passed a perfectly enormous mansion there was a tiny woman, dressed all in black and banging on the gates with a tire iron. Obviously enough, she had been locked out of her estate (the gates, she told me, are electrified. I believe her, although I don't understand how she could bang on them with a metal projectile without being electrocuted. Perhaps she meant the barbed wire at the top was electrified.) When she heard my car approaching she turned around and waved her arm, although I didn't notice this last for a moment because its girth was just about that of the bars of the gate. Of course I stopped anyway. She was attractive in a very... she seemed rather... actually, she's quite difficult to describe. As far as the basics go, her hair was a unique shade of blond, pulled back tightly into a bun from which no stray strand could possibly escape, and her features were exquisitely proportioned and very clear-cut. It was a beautiful face, but there were no curves to it. And her eyes were hidden by sunglasses, even though I came upon her around nine pm. She explained that her corneas are sensitive to light. Ah, well.
Even if the beauty she possessed was distinctly - the connotations for "unique" aren't what I'm looking for here; I suppose you'd have to say "odd" - well, anyway, despite that, she was nevertheless a beautiful woman, and I expected to revert immediately to my Criles Nane persona. However, I was quite at ease in inquiring if she needed help, and if I could be of service. Perhaps it was that she did need help. I wasn't the supplicant in this exchange. That may have made all the difference. At any rate, I gave her a ride to the nearest town, where she was able to phone her house and instruct her servants to let her in. She was quite harsh with her maid on the phone, and spoke of firing her; but then, the woman did do wrong to lock her mistress out of the estate. Quite likely she was drunk, or entertaining inappropriately.
The conversation between Maris - I'd forgotten to mention it, that's the name of the woman whom I rescued - and me was minimal during the ride to the town and then on the ride back. It was an uncomfortable silence, I suppose, but a very different kind of discomfort than that which I generally experience in the company of an attractive woman. At any rate, I did manage to gather the courage to give her my phone number at the end of the ride. I told her that if she ever needed help again, she could call on me. A good way of salvaging my self-esteem if she doesn't call.
So we'll wait and see. In the meantime, I've been reading an intriguing first-person account of one woman's struggle with obsessive-compulsive disorder and its impact on the sufferer's personal and romantic interactions - it truly sheds new light on the inner workings of the obsessive-compulsive patient's mind...