Adonis Diaries

It has been terribly cold these past two weeks,

Lebanon standard of cold, not that terrible with minimal amenities.

We do enjoy a water central heating system…

And I could afford the fuel, mazout.

 

It is 2 am and watching a movie on TV,

I am not sleepy, but cold is creeping in my bones.

I got inside my “warmer” bed, and could not sleep.

Memories flooding in, dispersing haphazardly, converging, diverging,

Refocusing on a beautiful face.

 

A beautiful face I met 37 years ago.

It was winter of 1976.

A Friday, and about 8:30 pm.

Alone, as usual, I am to watch a foreign movie,

Shown by the University Film Club at the Microbiology department.

 

She showed up with her girlfriend. She is blonde, blue/green eyed, not tall, not skinny.

For my candid eyes, just the perfect beauty.

I cowered.

I should have made haste, join her, and say: “Fair lady, have a good look at my face.

I need you to remember my face.

I need you to recollect that this face once told you

“You are the most beautiful girl around…”

 

The microbiology department, a stupid two flat floors, a couple of microscopes, and an auditorium.

The second “complex” by the Main Library, looking south,

The South long lawn, ideal for mass student demonstrations.

I used to demonstrate around it twice a week,  mostly joining a hundred of Iranian students,

Scanding: “Down with the Shah of Iran”, “Down with US imperialism“, Down with the Savak”…

The Shah secret service

Three years later, the Shah fled to exile.

Only Sadat of Egypt dared give him shelter, and where he died of cancer.

 

No, I didn’t chicken out: I terribly lacked conversational skills, and still do.

No, I didn’t chicken out: I had never carried out a conversation with a beautiful girl,

I didn’t understand girls, or human interconnection…

And time never came to the rescue in any important skills: It aches,

And the aches are exacerbated with time.

 

A couple of months later, I met her in my apartment.

An old student complex that I shared with a friend studying pharmacy.

I was returning at midnight from the library. Biking in the cold.

It was a cold night, and I must have biked or walked, no other alternatives.

And I had to piss badly and profusely.

I stepped out and this beauty had vanished like a mirage.

 

“Where is she?” I asked my roommate Fouad.

“You know, the one I once told you was the most beautiful girl around that I met?”

Fouad looked me up in total surprise. “You mean Jennifer?”…

That’s another story: She was taking a pharmacy class with him…

And spending the evening memorizing medical pharmacology terms.

My roommate told me that he had an idea to sleep with her

But will drop this desire for the sake of my fantasie.

Kind of a tacit loyalty. A rare sort of loyalty.

And I had to believe him any which way.

 

Twelve years later, I met her at Zanzibar, a night club in the town of Norman.

She was sitting alone, at the bar, waiting for the bar to close

and leave with her new beau bartender, serving drinks.

 

She didn’t change a bit.

Twelve years later, and another round of “higher education” stint,

A stint that grew me old:

My PhD advisor told me: “At your age, I was married with 3 children, 2 boys and a girl”

And he didn’t look that old.

 

Some people mature fast and very soon.

Maturity? I am waiting for this phase to take a peek at me.

I am  the skipper-type:

From an everlasting naive kid to rotten wise.

 

I sat by her at the bar and whispered her name: I could still recall her name.

A name that my roommate had told me, long, long time ago.

I introduced myself and simply reminded her of the name of Fouad, my former roommate.

She “recognized” me instantly.

 

Fouad must have told her about the devastating impression she made on me…

Count on a girl to retrieve a guy’s face, formed in a split-second,

Many years later, a face attached to “You are the most beautiful girl around…”

 

We had no conversation: She didn’t contribute a word.

We never had an opportunity to talk before.

And I had never heard her voice then, or now.

She didn’t even smiled, not a flicker of a smile.

 

She was selling pharmaceutical products…

I could have said: “Has one of the two bartenders invited you tonight?

Are you intending to invite a particular bartender…?”

Any small talk, the most outrageous talk would have been swell…

This cavernous silence.  She didn’t change a bit

 

I bet, if I meet her again, another 37 years later, this girl will still be the same girl,

Unchanged, not a bit:

The eyes register the first impression,

And it was good.

My eyes: setting on the most beautiful girl around.

My eyes, refusing to sleep a wink tonight.