Thursday, 22 July 2010

Who Is a Pretty Boy?

I was at the top of Bourke Street nearly at Spring, attempting to make my way past The Green Chilli, or The Red Pickle, through the people sat the outdoor tables on the foot path. The people and the tables were many, the spaces in between were limited.

A handsome Indian guy smiled, tilted his head, stepped sideways, and swept his hand in front of himself for me to walk through before him. He looked me in the eye and smiled when I hesitated. His beautiful eyes twinkled, his lips parted gently to show a row of pearl white teeth. My breath was taken away just for a moment. I guessed he knew it. He had the self assured smile of a man who was born handsome.

"After you," he said.

I nodded, as if to say thank you, and stepped past.

That jawline, that bone structure, that skin. I won't tell you how he filled out his jeans, I guess you can imagine, but I did notice.

"Thank you," I said.

"Oh no, it is my pleasure," he responded.

I looked back and he was still gazing at me. I nodded my head again and smiled.

Tall and strapping. He had large hands and big feet. I noticed the feet because he had those long, pointy kind of shoes on, which accentuated the length of his feet. 

I wondered? You know what I wondered.

I don't know what they say about Indian guys, in particular? But, I know what they say about guys in general and from my experience it is true what they say. But, what about Indian guys, are they known to have, er, big feet? 

I can’t say I have ever heard it said, you know, about their feet? No, I can’t say that I have.


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