Vignette: She was standing in line at the bank, and I was startled to see that, beneath her cut off muscle shirt, she was nude. The line snaked around the carpet, and she turned from time to time, providing glimpses of the sides of her firm breasts.

She was young, appearing in her mid twenties, and the deeply slashed sides of her shirt-if one could call it that-revealed a firm tanned expanse of flat tummy. I could see, in some regards, why she did not wear a bra: she certainly did not require the support it would provide, although from a drafty/modesty perspective, there might be some merit to choosing to wear one with that shirt. Not that I was complaining.

I suppose that I was mindlessly staring. That’s kinda what guys do, right? So, when she drew abreast (Heh.) of me in the conga line of finance, I was surprised when she nudged me, reaching toward me with her hand. I snapped to alertness, reverie broken, and started to stammer an apology.

She grinned, brown eyes flashing, unoffended. “Do women in general leave you catatonic, or is it just me?”

I recovered a little. “Just you. I certainly was not expecting such a scenic view here at the bank. I may have to do more of my banking in person!”

Her closed hand nudged me again. “Here, something to remember me by!”

Her line moved, she stepped to the teller window, and I admired her derriere, and her brown hair carelessly gathered in a loose bun on top of her head. By the time I had escaped the banking industry’s idea of cattle herding, er, I mean, customer service, she had gone. I made it to my car, mind awhirl with possibilities and lost opportunities (or so I imagined!), and tried to get back on track with my day.

Errands complete, I returned home, put things away, and ate my supper. I tried to watch the TV news. I really tried. But, the olympic dumbassery from the talking heads, well, my doctor tells me that I shouldn’t pressure test my coronary arteries so enthusiastically, so frequently. Then, there’s my Tourette’s, which gets the neighbors concerned when I begin speaking in (vulgar) tongues, once sufficiently provoked by the double-talking bullshit from Da Nooz. Perhaps, I may tell y’all what I really think, just not now. So, that was it for the TV.

I pulled a magazine from the pile next to my chair, and set to reading. After a couple of quiet hours, I had dented the stack somewhat, and selected several articles worthy of cutting out, and saving for another day. The rest of the magazine, went out the door.

So, my exciting day came to a close. Truth be told, my encounter with the muscle shirted woman was the high water point. I hung up my clothing, and emptied the shirt pockets. I opened the paper that the woman had handed me, and noted a name, “Melody”, and a phone number. The rest of the note was an invitation to call her, and get acquainted.

Around mid afternoon of the next day, I called. A musical voice greeted me. “This is Melody. Who’s calling?”

“Hello. I’m Mark Evans, the guy you struck dumb at the bank yesterday. I do believe that I’m capable of pretending I can hold up my end of a conversation today.”

“Oh, good! I hoped I hadn’t caused any permanent damage! I take it you’d like to get to know me better?”

“Yep. If you’d allow me to buy you a coffee, perhaps I can impress you with something other than my ability to imitate a statue!”

Her laugh caressed my ears. “I certainly hope so! Girls like conversation, as well as being admired! I have to give you credit, though. You looked as if you were trying to be discrete, and you earned bonus points for not actively drooling!”

“Uh, have you SEEN you? If I did succeed in not drooling, it was only because my mouth was so dry, at the sight of you, that I couldn’t form any spit whatsoever!”

Another giggle. “Ya know, when you are not immobilized, you’re pretty quick with the compliments. Are you as witty in person, or will my beauty strike you mute, once again?”

“Only one way to tell, and, as for me, I am willing to take that risk, so I may bask in the company of a radiant young woman such as yourself!”

“Flattering, and a risk taker! Now, you begin to intrigue me! When, and where, do we meet for this coffee?”

I named a coffee shop in a local bookstore. I figured it was public enough that she could feel safe, and enough of a crowd that we could people watch should conversation need some fodder. She was familiar with it, and agreed that mid day Saturday would be good. We terminated the call, and I made a big note on my calendar.

I had thought that I had arrived early. My plan had been to buy some coffee, secure a table, and sit, awaiting her arrival, positioned so that I could not miss her entrance. Melody outmaneuvered me. She noticed me, and waved me over to the table she had selected, indicating her coffee. I purchased my own coffee, and settled in, and, somehow, I managed to avoid stuttering as we greeted each other.

She had been dressed to impress at the bank, and she had held me riveted. Perhaps she wanted to see if I could manage to hold up my end of a conversation, in person, and, seemingly out of pity for my inability to speak when my tongue was erect, had worn a polo shirt and tight fitting jeans. In an entirely different manner, she warmed me.

Now that I had the leisure time to admire her, I let my gaze wander. Her brown hair flowed to her shoulders, framing her face. The shirt, tucked into her jeans, led my eyes over her firm bust, to her taut belly, and over her round butt.

We exchanged stories. She was an x ray tech at the local hospital, I was a medic for the ambulance service in the next county. She was considering her next career move, and schooling to learn how to perform CT scans looked appealing. I was starting nursing school the next autumn.

I observed that her wardrobe choices today were less drafty than the other day. Her laugh rolled over me. “Well, a couple of things”, she began. “First, when we met at the bank, I was on my way home from running errands. You remember how hot it was, right? Well, the air conditioning is broken in my car, and the part the shop needs is on some slow boat from wherever in the world that they make those things! Secondly, today I kinda wanted to actually speak to you, and, well, the other day you appeared mute. If my girlish figure and sunny smile renders you unable to speak, well, wouldn’t it be cruel to distract you that much, when we might rather be getting acquainted?”

I smiled. “I’m not sure that I was altogether unable to speak, but, yeah, you’re right: it was a near thing, and I’d hate to think what sort of imbecile you would take me for if I was reduced to a mumbling mess today! Tell the truth, I’d rather impress you as if I were an educated and articulate man.”

She laughed again. “Well, so far, you’re off to a good start. Have you eaten? I’m starting to get hungry!”

That was encouraging! “Yeah, me too. How do you feel about Greek food?”

“Never had it. What are you thinking?”

There was a restaurant nearby, run by a Greek family. While most of their menu was classic American burgers, fries, chicken and steak, they had a couple of items “from the old country”, and I had enjoyed every one.

We discarded our empty cups, and made our way to the restaurant. Over our meal, we discussed our experiences at work, as well as our hopes for our respective next moves. One time, I looked up to see her staring at me, fixedly, a look she abruptly turned aside, a mild blush on her features. Another time, I was admiring her profile when she turned to me, and caught me staring.

“I’m pretty sure that you have had meals with girls before. How come you appear to be staring at me like that?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I have taken women to lunch, and dinner, before. Gotta say, none of them have been as pretty, as alive with happy energy, as you are today!”

She smiled. “Eat up, you! I believe that we have a stroll in our future, and this day is simply too nice to dally indoors!”

We departed, as soon as I had paid for our meal. Standing outside the place, I asked her what she would like to do next? Melody smiled mischievously, looked about, and suggested we take a walk. She took my hand, and I sank into her soft, warm grasp. She led me to a nearby arboretum, and appeared to have a destination in her mind. I followed along, as if in her wake.

She led me along, until the trail branched. She took the one fork, and stopped, dragging me off the trail and into the brush. She finally paused, when we came upon a bench overlooking a quiet pond. Seating herself, she patted the bench beside her, motioning me to join her.

I seated myself next to Melody, and she scooted closer, entwining her arm in mine. She leaned her head on my shoulder, companionably, and I disentangled my near arm, and stroked her hair, savoring her scent. She nearly purred with that, moving her head as if to burrow more closely into my caress. I ran my hand up and down her arm, feeling the taut muscles beneath her smooth skin, occasionally wandering over her neck, and then back down her arm. She shivered, once, and pulled away to look into my eyes.