bearded meeting

the beard ages him by 20 years. without the beard he looks like superman. he slips on a pair of glasses to complete the look. he’s sitting next to me and i’m pretending to listen to what he’s saying. when he smiles each eye displays a different emotion. red flag. he’s dressed very neatly, too neatly for this meeting. his finger nails are manicured but not polished. i don’t know what to think of this. his facial hair doesn’t match the hair on his head. i’m reminded of pubes and wondering if he gets his hair foiled with blonde. wtf. mid-life crisis? he’s gotta be someone else in real life. no wedding ring. guess that doesn’t really mean anything. i think he’s flirting but unless he gets overt about it i’ll never know and will end up re-reading articles about kino and other body language signals, ultimately still unsure. he’s staring at me. pretty sure it’s obvious i’m daydreaming. i’m not sure what he just asked me. he has the same fucking name. i’m uncomfortable and wishing relationships could start out like kids, like, “hey, my name is ___ and i like you”. i wake up and ask him to repeat himself. he smiles. the eyes again, like two different individuals behind one very attractive face. murderer. he’s got to have latent killing tendencies. murder is just one of many sins though. is one worse than another? who am i to judge? it’s just coffee after all.

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