Shoes and pretty young men…

I have new sandals. They were meant to be comfy for everyday wear but quite pretty.

 

As you can see there isn't a lot too them but somehow they still managed to rub. So I found a seat in my local shopping centre for a bit of a rest and a spot of people watching. Which is when I saw him.

A young man/boy – I'd guess about 22ish – walking along on his own, lost in thought. I stared. Of course I did, it's only natural. But the great thing about being a 'woman of a certain age' is that I'm almost invisible at times. Plus I was sitting, tucked away in a corner, trying to wrap tissue around my rubbed-raw toe.

But let me tell you about him. Slim, with the most gorgeous sharp-boned hips you can imagine. Low slung skinny jeans but not the ridiculous kind. You could only see the waistband of his pants, not the whole things. Not so skinny you'd worry if he could ever have children. Big dark eyes, long black curls. Oh if only I had the nerve to take a picture because he was so very, very pretty.

I came home and looked for a picture as near to him as I could find but I couldn't get anything right. He was a bit like Simon from 'The Returned'

but younger, slimmer, more…. The thing about him was the air of lost vulnerability around him. It was so strong it made me want to look, and I wasn't the only one. As he walked along, oblivious, lots of people looked. I bet many of them couldn't tell you why they were looking, he wasn't that classically good looking, he was too pretty, but oh, that 'something' about him. It was incredibly attractive.

I just had a thought, he was more like Andrew VanWyngarden from MGMT.

So, please, Father Christmas, could I get to see that young man again. I don't want him to keep – I can only breathe in for so long – but I would like to see him. Pretty please?