SF(a)ADL - Pink Nail Varnish

On August 1 2013 I published Scenes from an Airport Departure Lounge. Descriptions of people at Heathrow. This week I am expanding on those descriptions a little with some imagined elaborations. 

I watched as her high heeled shoe dangled from her stockinged (or tighted) foot. She lazily swung the shoe with her toes unaware of the mesmerising affect it was having on me. Eventually it fell off revealing pink nail varnish beneath the black material. She had nice feet and nice calves, strong looking, like she worked out. My eyes traced their way up her body.  She was blonde but out of a bottle, not that that mattered it suited her just fine.  Her face was showing signs of ageing, but then again so was mine and she was doing it a lot more gracefully than I was. She wasn't Barbie doll pretty although she may have been in her prime but she was fascinatingly attractive, her face told stories and I could be a willing listener.
There was no ring on her finger but I guessed there had been once or maybe twice and I imagined a woman of that elegance and beauty had an array of men forming an orderly queue, one for every day of the week. I’d stand in line for her I thought, I’d be her Saturday boy.  I caught her eye and smiled before immediately blushing and looking away. I never knew how to react when women smiled back.  I could sense her looking at me or maybe not, maybe I was just imagining it, maybe I shouldn’t flatter myself. I longed to look back but my eyes were drawn to the guy with the sausage roll. Eventually I looked back towards the woman with pink nail varnish. She was looking at me, examining me in the way I had been her, her thumb moving quickly over the keyboard of her smart phone, was she doing to me what I’d been doing to her?