My very first impression of you was what an interesting voice. There was a tone and melody that was appealing that stopped me from hitting delete. My second impression was this is an intelligent person. The choice of words, word placement, inflection all pointed to the fact that you knew how to grab and hold someone’s attention.
Those things combined to catch the attention span of a woman who has the attention span of a zygote, and I wanted to know more.
My next step was to engage you in conversation. In that way that I do. Your audition, or your first interview, which you passed with flying colors.
I decided that you were worth the investment to meet. Meet we did not all that long after. My impression then?
Eh….what the hell am I going to do with this little boy?
That is how I looked at you then. You were the opposite of all that I sought. From the way you wore your tie, to the car you drove, to the compliments that you chose to share with me.
I was out of your league.
you smirked at me.
The smirk is the kiss of death to most people. It was your ticket to the dance.
I could not figure out how this skinny kid had the audacity to smirk at me.
Rather than ride off into the sunset, I wanted to know who the hell you thought you were that you could smirk at me.
I later found out.
You are the reason I give second chances now, in most cases at least. You taught me that no matter what it looks like on the surface something else boils beneath.
I was wrong that afternoon, and after all of this time I can finally say that out loud.
And that smirk is still on your face.
I may have changed but somethings never do, and for that I am grateful.