Poetic Referendum(s) On Life

Happens All The Time....

...and it's why I'm conceited...or boosts an ordinarily low self-esteem borne out of my OCD that needs ego gratification...that I'm still attractive.

Just today, I get the pretty Latino receptionist at hospital for a blood draw. She's always been indifferent, doesn't seem to feign a smile until she tells me someone will be with me in short order, my cue to smile back, which I do...all formality. I scan the room before I sit down. Never know who you might find waiting. Non-descript setting, as I take my place. I'm playing Words with Friends, finish and turn my attention to writing when I look up. We are in direct line of vision when our eyes lock. She looks away quick to her computer, while I'm turned back to my writing. (Not a Pam Beasley moment)

I finally decided to Google what these little eye interventions mean. Am I picking up some transmission I can't translate? My impression is she did not want to give the indication looking at me when I looked up meant anything. Given her demeanor, it made me wonder if she did what I and all do...evaluate people's looks. Now, I can recall looking at older people when I was young to understand their appearance. Anyone uninteresting didn't get a second thought. But, anyone who could have been attractive or could have done more with their appearance got special study. Sad that they didn't try more or how beautiful they must have been.

I can write off these visual interferences as nothing more than I'm pretty enough for study by a young person who wonders. I wasn't dressed well. Hooded raincoat and sweat pants with ball cap covering unkempt hair. I haven't been wearing my glasses, so my shaded face is good for study. I think she saw something but didn't want me to misunderstand, maybe, a little embarrassed at being caught. Given her demeanor, not wanting to seem weak, needed to feel superior because -- youth trumps my looks. Conceit tells me she would have been lucky with a pairing, if I was her age.

The website I googled supports my conjecture but leaves out things like age factor. Or, that people cannot look away from something hideous, too. I'm going to say I'm not an ogre, though the way I dress suggests I'd be more comfortable in a swamp.

https://markmanson.net/the-levels-of-eye-contact

One week later, I return to the window for my follow-up appointment and she's helping someone at a terminal next to me. I'm greeted by the woman next to her who asks me how she can help. I tell her who I came to see. Name please, I comply and she turns and immediately looks up from her adjacent station to look at me, only I do not turn to greet her eyes. She returns to her work while I'm smiling inside.