A Moment

I'm a happily married man and during a weekend when my wife and I went away for a lovely trip to reconnect, we found ourselves making our way for a pleasant walk at the San Jose flea market.

The market is many acres in size and this particular day was turning out to be a hot day. Waiting for the crosswalk to allow us to cross the road with others, I was dressed in my tight stripped t-shirt, and my tight jeans.

Looking rather dapper I felt, along with my knock-off Ray Ban Wayfarers, the light changed and we crossed into the flea market.

Together, we were happy. Reconnected, and very satisfied I was happy to be with her and go where ever she pleased. She had chosen the flea market.

The market is in a heavily populated Hispanic area, and truth be told the majority of customers and vendors are Hispanic with a flavoring of Asian as well.

Strolling into the market I spied three people, an older woman mother/grandmother type, and two people, a man and a woman in their twenties leaving the market. They all had laundry basket carts, the tall metal types with four wheels and handle. All were filled with items, but I noticed the woman's cart had a very large watermelon in it, as they approached.

I glanced up and our eyes met. Normally a woman's eyes, when she makes contact with mine glance away after a few moments, however as we approached each other, her eyes locked onto mine.

A quizzical smile from me prompted a gladness from her as those painted lips curled upwards. Her eyes still studied me and there was moment, shared between us.

It's unusual for me. Whether I'm just a dense guy, or probably that I'm not a beautiful person, I don't often get these reactions from women, yet at that moment, I recognized a hunger within her. There was a hunger for me. There seemed to be a spark of potential communicated in her smile and her eyes.

Here was: A Woman.

Curves, tall, and shapely, a woman matured enough to know what her best qualities are, in the prime of her life, and she was directing her language to me. She passed me by, and my heart skipped a beat. I fought hard to twist my head around and follow her as she glided away from me.

"Did you see the size of that watermelon?" my wife asked.

I turned to look at the woman, her dark curled hair trailing down that sinewy body of hers.

"No, I didn't was it big?"

"Huge," she said.

We continued our walk. My mind running back over the moment shared between her and I. We were two boats passing in the night. The what-if's went through my mind.

What if that man was her husband?

What if he was her brother?

What if I was alone?

What if I wasn't married?

Would I offer to help them with their purchases, accompanying her to their car?

Would I learn more about her?

Would they object?

Would she be interested?

I would never know, but for that day, I felt more like a man.

Later just as we were leaving, I told my wife. She thought it likely that the woman was indeed attracted to me, after all my wife was, so why wouldn't everyone else be?

"Not to worry, honey, I'm all yours," I told her.

She just smiled.

Maybe she looked at me differently.

I would like to think that she did. Maybe she thought, damn, I've got a handsome catch of a man, and I better not let him go.

Maybe it was just the food stain that had been on my face...