Brown Eyes in Astoria

BING

I look at the time... Sigh Why do I even bother? I'm on my way home anyways.

I lost my job. I lost my dream job. I fought for this job while in college. I finally got it after a year of fighting for it. 5 years strong... and I lose it to someone else who is "more qualified".

I mean, what the hell?

I went to school for this job, and I lose it to someone else.

I shake my head. What the hell do I do, now?

I sit on the bench as I wait for the train to come. 5 more minutes.

I wipe my face, as I just thought of the fact that I now have to look for work in the morning.

Maybe some friends can help me out with a job...

I lean against my thighs and hide my face in my hands, wondering about the next move.

I'm so screwed!

Suddenly, I feel movement next to me, sitting in the empty seat.

I don't bother moving. I just have so much to think about, and today has been frustrating...

"Excuse me, sir?" The person asks for me.

After I sigh, I slowly sit up to look at the person next to me.

Then... everything around me stops.

I stare into brown eyes. Crystal clear, shiny, glossy brown eyes.

I just stare as she speaks, but I'm not hearing a word that this woman says. Her skin golden brown, her curls coiled and wildly organized. She smiles, and her teeth are pearly white.

Oh my... I have never encountered such a beautiful creature in my life. I have dated a few women in my lifetime, but this woman is not human. She's an angel. For me, maybe?

"Sir...Sir...Sir..."

I shake my head a big and blink my eyes to come back to reality. I blink the final time, and clear my throat as I say, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry. I hope didn't disturb you," she says apologetically.

Why is she apologizing? I'm glad she woke me up!

"Oh, no... Um... It's okay. I was just...sitting here," I say, wiping my hands on my pants.

Jesus, did you send her my way? I hope you did.

"Um," I finally have a clear thought as I ask, "How can I, uh, help you?"

"Yeah, um, I'm new in New York, and I'm kind of lost. Is there a train that takes me to Astoria?" she asks me.

"Oh yeah, you're in the right platform. That's where I'm headed," I answer.

Jesus, you did send her to me! Thank you!

"Oh great! I hope you don't mind showing me around," she says.

Oh, I will more than glad to help, my beautiful, angelic creature.

"No, I don't mind. Train should be here in 2 minutes," I say.

"Thanks," she says in true gratitude.

Oh, man... Just when I thought my day was getting worse, but it's the complete opposite. A woman, more beautiful than Aphrodite, is sitting next to me asking for help. She could ask anyone, but she chose me...

Now, we sit here, waiting for the train to Astoria. And, in no time, the train arrives. As it comes to a complete stop, we stand and enter the train. I look for seats, and I lead us towards the empty seats by the windows. We sit next to each other. Almost touching...

Dude, seriously? What am I thinking? Once this girl finds out that I'm unemployed, she won't hang out with me, let alone talk to-

"So, what's your name?" she asks as she looks at me.

I look back, and I see those eyes again. The glossy, brown eyes. Brown eyes that hold such an angelic soul.

After a few seconds, I finally answer, "Brandon. Yours?"

"Angela. It's nice of you to show me around," she says to me.

It's the nicest thing someone has ever said to me in a while.

"Of course. You wanted help, so why not?" I say, smiling back.

Wow, I'm smiling, and I'm beginning to forget my job.

She nods, and continues to smile at me. "So, it seems pretty early to go home, don't you think?" she asks.

Shit...

"Um, well... The truth is..."

Be honest, dude. She's been very nice to you, so far...

"I just lost my job..." I say to her.

She stares at me, her smile fades away. Her brown eyes still glossy. I smile a little, then turn away from her. Ashamed that I'm sitting next to the woman that I'll be dreaming about every night, yet I'm unemployed. I look down and fiddle with my shoulder back.

Yet, I still feel her eyes on me. I look at her, and her glossy brown eyes are still staring at mine. Pale blue with little to hope for.

After a minute, she pats my shoulder, and begins to say, "I'm sorry to hear that."

I sigh out, and I shake my head as I rub my face. "Well," I begin to say, "I worked there for 4 years, and it was my dream job. So, I didn't even bother to look for something else. I should have, though..."

"Will you start looking soon?" she asks.

"Yeah, once I get home and look online. At least I was smart enough to save my bonuses. It's enough to last me until I find something," I explain.

She nods and smiles, without showing her pearls. Now, I'm curious...

"What do you do?" I ask.

"Oh," she says as she smiles, showing her pearls again. "I'm a writer. I used to live in Florida with my parents, but saw more of an opportunity and inspiration here in New York. I'm actually broadcasting my own radio show as well."

"Oh, wow, that's nice!" I say, excited for her.

It's her smile, that's why I sound excited.

"Yeah. Not much opportunity in Florida, as older people are starting to reside there, so health and medicine is in high demand. Not so much on art," she explains.

"I bet," I say as I sit up next to her, "I'm in architect, and studied for it to get the job that fired me. But, maybe I should have done something else..." I begin to pause as I think about my job again.

"Well, since you live in New York, maybe think about your own architecture firm. I mean, why not?" she says.

I look at her, and now I can feel my own blue eyes being glossy.

She's not just a dream. She's an inspiration.

I smile at her, and I say to her, "You're a genius, you know that?"

She laughs, and it feels like it's harmonic. Almost like playing an instrument.

However, I start to think about her idea. I mean, it makes sense. At my (now old) job , I received a lot of praise for my blueprints. They even considered hiring me for a project for them. Brown eyes is a genius.

We continued to talk for 15 minutes, learning that Angela came from an artistic family in Jacksonville, and was even encouraged to move to New York. Her mother was a singer in Memphis, and her father was a musician in New Orleans, but they met in Miami when they were in their 30s. I even learned that she was born on the 4th of July.

Just brilliant: Brown eyes is a summer baby. What's more: Summer women are my ideal. I don't know why, they just are.

We even continued to talk after we got off our stop. We talked as we got to the street. We talked under the tunnel, and let me say, I'm so fascinated with Brown eyes and the words that are coming out of her mouth. She's great with them.

We talked all the way until we got to her apartment. We talked so much, I was so unaware about the time.

She turns and looks at her apartment, then confirms that it's hers.

"Well, thank you for walking me home. Maybe tomorrow you can show me more of New York," she says.

"I will be delighted. And thanks for the idea. I think it's brilliant," I say.

She nods, and we exchange numbers before she says her good bye and heads inside. I watch her walk inside until she disappears into the elevators. I smile as I stand there.

This is it. It's her. It has to be her. The girl of my dreams.

Now, I know what I need to do: plan for the day tomorrow, and come back to see her again. This may be too soon, but I think she's the one for me. Only time will tell...

Brown Eyes in Astoria