The Cafeteria Girl

A girl walked into the Cafeteria today, and it seemed my entire table noticed her entrance. She was confident, flowing brown hair curling behind her, a long patchwork skirt swooshing as well. The amount of movement she had as she walked was mesmerizing, it made her seem larger than life. She was fit, but not athletic. Tall, but not overly so. Our conversation ground to a halt as she walked by, all eyes following the mystical beast. We had never seen such a girl, such a woman, such a masterpiece of biology.

Conversation resumed as she went into the lines to get her food. With her gone from our view, there existed something outside of her. Our conversation slowly picked up pace, back to the usual nothingness. I was curious as to what made her so special, what made this girl stand out enough to grind the entire table to a halt for several seconds. Was it the eyes? The female bits? The time spent on the hair? I swore to myself to find out what elevated her above the rest of the crowd, to find out what made her special.

She exited the food lines, making for a table of friends. A large smile split her face as she greeted them, showing her crooked front teeth. No matter, teeth are just one part of the whole. She sat down, and turned to friends to catch up on the day’s happenings. A friend spoke; she interrupted. This tall girl seemed to go from majestic and strange to overbearing and faulty. She descended from Demigoddess to mere mortal in the minute or so that she held my attention.

It’s the same with a flower. Walking by one on a path, you notice the color, and the cheer. A flower couldn’t be more pretty! Their bright patches catch your eye, and you are in awe. But stoop down close, and you’ll notice the true color of the flower. That bright yellow is really just patchy between the white streaks, and the bits of dirt and muck that bees have left. The pollen is spread everywhere, a pungent powder that makes getting closer a nose-wrinkling affair. Some find the imperfections beautiful, others find them distracting and abhor the faults.

I could only observe her for a minute more before my conscience started yelling at me for being a creeper. Her friends spoke to her only after she addressed them. It seems they realized the effect her potent, overbearing attitude had on their relationship. He bright skin, noticeable from across the dining hall, was only that way because of the makeup I could now see. The hair seemed too large, too built up when she wasn’t walking. There was no more flow about her; no more grace from motion.

It follows the flower analogy. Sometimes when beauty passes, it’s best to admire it when you see it, lest your own attention ruin your appreciation for the thing of beauty. She entered the dining hall, capturing mine and others attention, only to leave the dining hall as just another face in the crowd.