THE RIGHT GUY

THE RIGHT GUY

I will never forget the day I met him. I was sitting at a café in Copacabana, having beer and trying to have some fun. It was one of those summer evenings when you just "have" to go out, otherwise you feel like you´re not living. My friends were laughing at something when I noticed the three men.

Two of them were staring at me, smiling as if they had found what they had been looking for. Five minutes later the waiter brought me a message, something silly saying they wanted to talk to me. I hated it from the very beginning. Why me? Why not one of the other girls at my table? I knew the answer, and it made me sick. They were probably a bit heavier than the stereotype they always pursued. I had the measures, the right outfit, I was the prototype.

Why do people need to act so obvious? Why don´t they allow themselves the right to discover, the capacity of inventing, of being different, maybe? My girl friends were, by the way, very interesting people, the kind of people who have something to say.

Later on I had to go to the restroom, and one of them grabbed me by the arm when I passed. They introduced themselves and, trying to be nice, invited me to a disco that was the hit of the moment.I just watched, recalling my previous thoughts. Only then I noticed that one of them was not trying to be persuasive, was not insisting, was just waiting, as if he himself was sorry for what was happening. He seemed, in fact, to be eager to re-take some conversation they might have been having before I passed them. He was different. He was not interested in a girl for her right measures. Suddenly, I heard myself saying: -“Yes, I´ll go if Daniel goes.” Daniel was his name.

The disco was crowded, the music playing loud as usual, too much smoke in the air and many people dancing. We sat at a small table, Daniel and I, had our drinks, smoked, danced and kissed. I must confess I was eager to find out some more about him.

I remember one moment when he said: -“I can´t see you. “ Of course he couldn´t see me very well. In the darkness of the disco one couldn´t tell the color of your eyes or the shape of your lips. A bit intoxicated by the drinks, the cigarettes and the heavy atmosphere, we then left for my apartment. We had moments of warm sex and little talk. We were both too tired.

In the morning, near the window of my small apartment, he took my arm and said again : -“I can´t see you.” I couldn´t understand, but he explained: -“I´m blind.”

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