The lanky Louis...well, she is stunning at first glance, then she orders her double-shot latte', her cell, wedged in her ear, talking in judgmental clips, while her Platinum Amex tap dances on the counter to a frenetic beat . She has not noticed me, the art, or anyone for that matter. Deeper and more sadly still, she has not noticed herself. I find this sad and at the same time I find I'd like to slap her, knowing everyone on the cafe' would surely applaud. I imagine you know someone like this as well.
Many would lean towards the Louis as the beauty. But to know the ones that missed the beauty in the young girl astonishes me enough to have a second conversation with my husband that night and a third and fourth about it on the phone with my daughter and best friend. They get it and that smooths down my feathers a bit.
I must say this as a counter point. Typically, beautiful woman get prejudged before one gets to hear one word slip from their painted lips. Most women might have seen the same woman enter my cafe and felt a familiar anger and an unsettled insecurity itch up their legs as she walked by. Had she shared the same inner beauty as the young tattooed girl, she would have been wrongly scorned because she was so beautiful. Or, men might predispose she was all they have longed for when, maybe, she in truth was no brighter than that of a 40 watt bulb.
The coin is a tricky one of beauty vs. beauty. You need only wait a few minutes to let her unfold before you and reveal her true self. Whether she is a disheveled miss Woodstock or a glossy Vogue statue, she may just surprise you.