It’s a beautiful sunny morning in Manhattan. The sidewalks are bustling with people and the roads are flowing heavily with traffic. I decide to take a walk to get coffee a little early on this glorious morning because I feel more energized than usual. I begin walking towards Starbucks, which I know is located on the corner of 7th Avenue and 35th street. As I turn the corner of 36th Street onto 7th Avenue, I spot a woman yelling at what seems to be her not-so-significant other in front of a TD bank. I slow my pace and observe the man’s reaction to the verbal assault and the leaving of his partner. Like myself, he doesn’t seem to be a man of action. He simply stands on the corner of the busy street while with one foot in the taxi the woman delivers a brutal combination of verbal kicks and punches. I can see by the familiar expression on his face that her words are like whips wrapped in barbed wire, they puncture deep into his skin and rip the flesh off his bones. Despite this torture, he still stands in the street and takes it. The woman stares at her work waiting for a response but he fails to provide anything significant. He has a look on his face that tells his wife and me that he has absolutely no idea what to say and with his blank expression he receives a final literal slap to the face and with that the woman swings her other knee-high boot into the taxi and drives away. The man shamefully drops his head in a recognizable fashion and walks back the way he came.

I look at my watch, it is now 9:36 AM and my early departure is now obsolete. I continue towards my destination, in great need of a shot or two of fine espresso. As I walk past Perfumania my nose catches the strong scent of strawberry perfume. I begin taking half steps to bask in the scent and reminisce. These thoughts remind me of the public beating that I have just witnessed across the street a few moments ago and I decide that it’s best to continue on.

As I take a step into the cross walk I see the most breathtaking girl my eyes have ever had the pleasure of making contact with. I watch as she struts across the adjacent street, wind blowing her beautiful brown hair over her shoulders. I am mesmerized as she smoothly and confidently puts one leg in front of the other. Her grace leaves me standing with one foot in the cross walk frozen in time for several seconds as people shuffle by me and cars honk angrily at my unpredictable stance.
I hear, “HEY IDIOT! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!” coming from my right side.
I turn my head, smile embarrassingly and continue walking through the cross walk. I take another look across the street, but the girl is nowhere to be found.

I can see the green Starbucks sign from my current position, but I am no longer itching for my morning espresso. Instead I am longing for a chance to meet that beautiful girl from the opposite side of the street. I can tell that she’s a girl with a good head on her shoulders. She’s intelligent and her walk tells me that she knows what she wants out of life, the way her hair is naturally curled and flowing lusciously over her shoulders and back tells me that she knows exactly where she’s going and how she’s going to get there.


I stare up at the massive array of coffee and espresso, lattes, cappuccino’s frappuccino’s, refreshers, and smoothies. As usual, I stand in the line debating whether I should be more adventurous; perhaps a Vanilla Latte or White Chocolate Mocha. Eventually as I get nearer to the register I resort back to my regular choice.
“Hi, I’ll have a Hazelnut Macchiato with 2 shots of espresso.”
I wonder what that girl drinks? She probably drinks tea; she seems like that type. Just as I get my drink I turn towards the doors and to my amazement, I see the girl from the street. I scramble clumsily to the nearest table in hopes to observe her in a more comfortable environment. An environment that won’t get me sandwiched between two taxis. As I assumed, she doesn’t even bother looking at the menu. Her walk tells it all, she knows what she wants. I try to make out her words at the register but the overwhelming chattering of people is awfully noisy and I can’t make out her voice. With a smile on her face, she approaches the end of the counter to wait for her drink. Should I talk to her? Should I ask her name? No, that seems to forward. I have to start a conversation before I ask something so personal. How about a common statement about the weather? Shall I say: “Lovely weather we’re having! What’s your name?” I’m terrible at making advancements of any kind towards anyone for anything. I’m simply not a “man of action,” I never have been and probably never will be. I divert my attention back to the girl, who is now making her way towards the exit. I would love to hold the door open for her but it feels as though my arms and legs have been chained down and a weight equal to the total mass of the earth is being placed on my chest. I sit helplessly and watch the door swing closed as the girl of my dreams walks away from me for the second time. As she leaves my sight I feel the weight being lifted and my limbs unshackle. I stand up and in a rage throw the wooden chair across the café, the legs snap off easily. I run towards the exit, passing startled faces. I can’t let her go.


I see her bright yellow shirt a little ways down the street, I frantically push through heavily congested sidewalk, often finding my way into the bicycle lane to pass leisurely walkers. When I reach about 20 feet away from her I slow my pace, confident that she won’t stray from my vision. Her legs look beautiful, glistening under the afternoon sun. I have a whole new appreciation for her now that I’ve witnessed her beauty on such a personal level. I continue to follow her as she crosses the road onto 33rd Street. I assume that she is going to the Manhattan mall. She’s the type of girl who will spend her Saturday drinking coffee and shopping and I appreciate a girl who can take the time to treat herself, I can tell that me and her share a vast amount similarities. Again I reminisce in my past, but I am still fixated on the present.


My instincts don’t disappoint as she makes her way to the mall entrance. She swings the door open and her hand glides around the handle and she gracefully slips into the doorway. Oh, how I long for her to glide those same hands across my body. To have such an experience would be a blessing from the gods, and believe me I will pray for such to come true.
I hide behind a display for eHarmony that reads “Love Begins Here.” I chuckle at the irony and move towards a nearby bench to close the distance between us. She is walking with determination towards Victoria’s Secret.
I feel as though I am invading privacy so I choose to turn away and wait until she is finished. With good intentions in mind, I can’t help myself from turning my head ever so slightly as to keep her in my peripheral vision. I do this as if I am cheating by making my curiosity and eagerness subtle. I whip my head back towards the eHarmony ad with disgust. How could I be so perverted and disrespectful? This young woman deserves more than that. I spend almost half an hour staring at the entrance but I don’t dare look into the store. Finally she comes walking out with a wonderful smile on her face. As she tightens her grip on her bag, her purse falls to the floor. She bends down, bending her knees to collect her things. I feel the pressure on my chest; I feel the chains tightening around my wrists and ankles. The pain that this is causing me is excruciating. I can only watch as she scrambles to shove all of her belongings into her purse. I then come to a realization; how do I know that she hasn’t noticed me and is testing my worthiness? I will not fail! I will show her that I am worthy of being in her company and I will match her determination with mine! I will show her that we are alike and that I out of all people can be a gentleman! With that I stand up, busting the chains off my body and throwing the weight of the world off my chest and hurling it behind me as if it were paperweight. I begin to walk towards her; I confidently place one foot in front of the other. I am suddenly crushed. A tall handsome man has already made his way to her. He is on his knees assisting her, and helps her to her feet. She looks extremely grateful and her smile is almost blinding. The energy is so overwhelming that I cannot stand it. My mind is flowing with memories and I begin to feel the chains tightening again and I am motionless. They walk away with each other and he is probably making a comment about how beautiful she is. I can tell by her facial expressions that she is flattered. I have failed. I’ve lost her, and as I begin to think that hope is lost, I see the most breathtaking girl walk past me…



THE END