eye am what eye am

i was never one for introducing myself cold to anyone, let alone a girl. but, she looked cute from across the bar, from what i could see, and all of my friends were locked in conversations that did not include me. what the hell. i am 23, i am single, i feel somewhat eligible, and isn't this what people do in bars?

i gulped down the last of my beer and prepared for my jaunt across the dark room toward her in the low light. my palms were a bit sweaty, and my belly felt bloated from the frothy brew, but it was too late to turn around now. as i began my approach, she looked up from her conversation with her friend and seemed to be looking in my direction.

cannot stop now.
maintain composure.

the walk began in slow motion and allowed my brain to completely relax to the point of forgetting what i had so carefully penned in my head to break the ice with her.

cannot stop now.
composure beginning to slip.

we make eye contact and hold it for seemingly seconds before a smile begins to break from the corner of her lips. slow motion begins to accelerate.

cannot stop now.
composure is fully slipping.
keep eye contact.
do not show nervousness.

i was at the point where one either commits to the fact eye contact was made and it can quickly become uncomfortable not to say anything. i continued moving toward her table as i noticed her look down at her drink, and tilt her head to the side before looking back up at me through her incredibly long eyelashes.

say hi.
say hello.
say hey.
say something.

my efforts to maintain eye contact seemed to be paying off. i was gaining confidence as she was the one to somewhat blush, but seemed accepting and interested in the fact i was approaching. could it be this easy?

in this concerted effort to maintain eye contact, i failed to notice the smoker that i was passing on my right flicking the ash from his cigarette into the air; an air that was made turbulent by the numerous ceiling fans in this bar.

as my eyes were locked with hers, and i was steps from her table, a burning sensation like no other took over my right eye. i recall seeing a blurred out version of her curly locks and long lashes as water took over my eye socket in response to the caustic burn.

face twitching beyond control.
growling noises bordering on screams.

i had to turn it into a flyby, i couldn't see any longer, my face was contorting into shapes i did not know were possible. i put my hands in front of me to help find the bathroom that was just beyond her table, and all i could think about was not how my eye felt as if someone poured salt into it, but rather how i must have resembled popeye, and what a fool i had made myself out to be thinking i could break my pattern of loneliness by behaving like any other human being.

mensroom arrow.
keep moving.
use the wall for support.

time had once again slowed to a near halt in my last few steps toward the bathroom. i cannot say for sure, but there seemed to be laughing all around me. i was at what i felt was an all-time low, but not for long.

blackness.

as i reeled from the pain of the swinging mensroom door i fought for my balance as it backed me up to her table.

don't look.
keep your bearings.

the blow from the door held no prejudice in how it would embarrass me. not only did it send me backward toward the very reason i was walking in this direction in the first place, it forced out every cubic centimeter of air that was created by the consumed hops from my backside precisely at the moment i finally caught my balance in front of her table.

i am what i am.

and so goes my only stab at ever approaching a stranger in a bar.