Dimples

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Dimples

 

Adam shoved the remaining Döner into his mouth, scarfing it down as if he hadn’t just eaten two hours earlier. He licked the sauce from his fingers, then pulled out his phone and checked his mouth with the camera.

His face, brown skinned with a thin beard, within military regulations of course, appeared in the screen.

Satisfied with the lack of sauce on his face, he put his phone in his pocket, then tensed as the chill breeze cut through his sweater.

Shoulda worn an undershirt, he thought, as he clenched his teeth.

He stood in the middle of downtown Kaiserslautern, or K-Town, its more common name, at the end of November. Dressed nice enough, jeans, fashionable sneakers, the bare minimum to let women know he cared about his appearance.

A group of women splashed through puddles dotting the stone walkway on their way to some bar. One of them was cute, the other two, not so much. He looked behind him, up at the hookah lounge where his two friends currently sat. Adam didn’t particularly need a wingman, but it wouldn’t have hurt. Ultimately deciding against it, Adam turned around to catch up with the group of woman when he looked through a window across from him and saw a stunning woman sitting on the other side.

Red hair, slender, the tattoos on her shoulder were barely visible beneath the purple pinkish light of the hookah lounge. She sat on a bench looking at her phone. Three hookah coals, emitting a faint orange glow, sat atop a nearby hookah.

Adam turned, casting a glance at the group of women walking away, then looked at the woman on the bench.

A choice had to be made.

Adam walked around a group of men and woman shouting to each other in German, then opened the door to the Hookah lounge.

Flavored tobacco, along with much needed warmth from the blasting heater, hit him all at once. Other than the girl sitting at the back, and a couple sitting in the booth behind her, the lounge was empty, which was surprising considering the time of night.

“Can I help you?” a short German man in a black shirt asked.

“I’m good, I’m just trying to go talk to her,” Adam replied as he stepped around the employee not even bothering to see if the employee heard him, or if he even was allowed to just walk in the lounge.

Adam made his way to the back and stood at the end of the bench.

“Excuse me,” Adam said, his voice, smooth. At least to his own ears it was.

She looks up from her phone.

Adam extended his hand. “Hey, I’m Adam.”

“I’m Fiona,” she said, taking Adams hand in hers.

Green eyes, nose is a little long, pale skin, pointy chin. Not bad.

Easy 7.5 out of 10.

Good enough, Adam thought as he sat down. “I just got finished eating and I was gonna go re join my friends at Cloud Hookah, but I saw you just sitting here on your phone looking bored. Thought you could use some company.”

She smiles, then her eyes go to an empty bag and jacket sitting on the bench across from her. “I’m not that bored. My friend’s here, she’s in the bathroom right now.”

“Alright, cool. So, what—”

“There she is,” Fiona says, motioning with her head to a slender light skinned, woman with braids walking toward us. Her expression, stern, cold, she approached like an evil queen on some Disney movie.

What could it be? Did I interrupt a girls night? Is she jealous Fiona is getting the attention? Or is this just how she looks?

The light skinned woman sat down.

Let’s find out.

Adam extended his hand. “How you doin? I’m Adam.”

She shakes her head. “No, we ain’t doing this?”

Definitely angry.

“Doing what?” Adam asked, retracting his hand and laying it across the top of the bench.

“Who are you?” She asks.

Adam, moments away from pointing out the obvious fact he just gave introduced himself, decided against it. Something told him she was expecting that, and doing so would only escalate the situation. He put his elbow on the couch arm and propped the side of his face against his hand. “I’m Adam.”

The light skinned girl leaned forward. “Why are you here?” Her tone, rude, and Adam thought he caught a hint of an accent.

Adam turned back to Fiona, who’s on her phone again. “Like I was telling Fiona here, my friends are at Cloud Hookah. I just finished eating, and was about to go join them, when I saw her. She cute, looked bored, so I thought I’d come and talk to her.”

The light skinned girl narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

Adam looked the light skinned girl in the eye. “Why would that be weird?”

“Talking to a girl who’s sitting all by herself?”

Adam shook his head. “Why is that weird? I don’t see what the issue is.”

She looked at him, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Rape. Molestation. Some people go through that.” Her tone, she spoke as if the answer was obvious.

Alarms started going off in Adam’s head. Warnings. She was probably one of those crazy girls that accuses people of rape when they didn’t even do anything. I should probably leave…but he knew, as soon as he were to leave, it would probably seem like he was there to rape or molest. He saw the image in his head. Him getting up to leave and the light skinned girl smiling, thinking to herself, “caught him!”

“Whoa,” Adam held his hands up. “I ain’t even on nothing like that. How you gonna even suggest that? You, don’t even know who I am.”

“Well, you can never be too careful.”

“Yea, that goes for just throwing around the words rape and molestation.”

She shrugged. “How old are you?”

Adam held up three fingers on one hand and two on the other. “Thirty-two.”

Her eyes widened in shock. No, not shock, more like a gotcha expression. “You thirty two talk to a twenty—”

“He didn’t know how old I was,” Fiona cut in. “You came in before he asked.”

Adam shrugged. “I sat down, asked her name, then you came out. I didn’t know how old she was.”

The light skinned woman seemed to deflate just a tiny bit.

Looks like I dispelled the rape and molestation idea, he thought, relief flooding over him, but he still couldn’t leave. No. At this point Adam’s ego began to grow and with it the rush and excitement of engaging in conversation with a new woman. To him, it was like fighting. He had to think quick, respond in kind, defend, deflect; sometimes you can’t be too hard, sometimes you can’t be too soft, all while remaining strong. Smile when you need to, remain stone faced when you have to. Conversations and fighting. So similar. At this point, there was a challenge to overcome. The light skinned girl came out guns blazing, anger in her eyes.

At this point, it was no longer about getting to know Fiona. Now, it was about softening the light skinned girl. Not because he wanted her to like her. No. It was because he wanted to see if he could do it. Is my game that good. No different than if a famous fighter walked into the gym. Adam would’ve jumped to fight him, if only to answer one question. Are my skills good enough.

Adam looked at the light skinned woman, her eyes filled with suspicion. A cold anger burned just under her stern expression. All of it, it’s like a suit of armor and she’s encased in it.

I wonder if I can break it.

“How old are you?” Adam asked.

She pauses. “In my twenties.”

Progress.

“How old is she,” Adam asked, holding her gaze as he tilted my head toward Fiona.

“In her twenties, too,” the light skinned girl replied.

Fiona’s eyes widened a bit as she inhaled another mouthful of smoke.

“Alright, where you from?” Adam asked the light skinned girl.

She shook her head. “Where you from?”

“Arizona.”

“What you doing here?”

“Military.”

Adam turned and looked over his shoulder, glancing at the couple sitting behind him. The man, while engaged in conversation with the woman, was clearly more focused on Adams conversation with Fiona and her friend.

Great. I have an audience, Adam thought.

“I hear an accent. Where you from?” Adam asked.

“New York.”

She said it as if I should be scared.

Adam just started at her, unphased. “What part of New York?”

She rolled her shoulders and gave a slight tilt of the head. “South Bronx.”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know anything about New York.” His voice, curious.

“It means she can beat your ass,” Fiona said, blowing a cloud of hookah smoke in the air.

Adam suppressed a laugh. The girl was probably one hundred and fifteen pounds. Adam, two hundred pounds and a current Muay Thai champion in Arizona, wondered if he should provoke the situation.

He decided against it. Nothing good would come from fighting a girl he outweighed by over one hundred pounds.

“No one needs to fight anyone,” Adam said.

“So, you in the military?”

“Air Force.”

She leaned back. “Ok, my husbands in the military.”

Adam looked at her hand. No ring.

I’ll save that one for later, he thought.

“So, you in the miliary, from Arizona, and you just decided to talk to some random girl sitting by herself?”

Adam smiled. “Yea.”

She frowned. “It just don’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

“Why you would just walk up to a girl, all by herself, and just talk to her. That don’t seem right to me.”

He stroked my chin, finally understanding.

“I don’t know how old you are, but the way I grew up, if you see a cute girl, you go up and talk to her, ya know. Gotta see what’s up. Never know what it might lead to.”

She nodded. “What’s your name again?”

“Adam, Adam Martinez.”

“How old are you?”

He held up the same number of fingers as before. “Thirty-two.”

She’s trying to trip me up.

“I’ll be sure to ask my husband about you.”

Adam laughed inwardly. The Air Force has like three hundred thousand people. She’s either lying about being married or she’s really that dumb.

“I notice you’re not wearing a ring,” Adam said.

Her right hand quickly covered her left and she leaned back, “Well, I…it comes off too easy, so I usually leave it at home,” she leaned forward, showing me her ring finger.

Tough girl act gone, Adam thought.

In that moment, Adam wondered whether or not he should press her. Up until this point, she more or less remained still; solid, almost statue like, the only movements were her facial expressions and slight hand gestures. That question clearly had her rattled.

Adam leaned forward. “It’s ok. I get it. What was your name again?”

Her eyes dart from side to side. “You can call me, Dimples for now.”

For now… Adam thought. That means I can get the real name later.

Adam smiled. “Ay, that’s what’s up. Progress. I’m glad we got to this point, it’s a bit more cheerful around here.”

Fiona giggled.

Dimples suppressed a smile.

Success. Let’s test it out.

Adam leaned back in the chair and looked over his shoulder at the exit, then glanced at the man behind him, who quickly looked away. “I can leave if ya’ll want me to.”

Dimples shook her head. “No. I was just trying to figure out what was going on.”

She doesn’t want me to leave! I cracked the armor! Small crack, but it’s there.

“I get it. I was just trying to figure out what was going on with Fiona.”

“What’s your name again?” Dimples asked.

“Adam Martinez.”

“Where are your friends?”

“Cloud Hookah.”

Before she could ask, Adam held up his fingers again. “Thirty-two.”

“Oh, and Fiona got a boyfriend,” Dimples said a little too fast.

Adam glanced at Fiona. “Yea, if I knew that, I woulda left.” His eyes fell on Dimples. “But, if you were here, I would’ve asked you the same thing. Tried to get to know you too.”

Dimples and Fiona exchanged glances.

Neither of the are in a relationship Adam thought. I just need to get them to admit it. He knew, from decades of interacting with woman, the best way to get someone, anyone really, to admit a lie, was to give the a way out that preserved their ego. Can’t just call people liars. All I need to do is think of one…

“Yea, I’m TDY here.”

Dimples looked at me, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“That means I’m only here for a set amount of days,” Adam said.

She fluttered her eyelids. “I know what a TDY is.”

Not by that confused look on your face, Adam thought. “That’s right, because you’re husbands in the military.”

Fiona blew another hookah cloud, then shot Dimples a piercing gaze.

“We were also about to leave,” Dimples said, as she reached for her bag and coat.

 “All good,” Adam said, nodding. “Fiona got a boyfriend and you’re…” he paused for effect. “Married.” He clapped his hands and made to stand up. “Guess there’s no reason for me to stay.”

Fiona glanced at Dimples.

“Ya’ll have a good night,” Adam said, then turned to walk away. He didn’t look back as he made his way through the lounge, making eye contact with the man behind him, who gave him a slight nod of respect. The bitter cold hit him as soon as he stepped through the door.

It wasn’t a loss, but not quite the win Adam was hoping for. He was sure he’d see Dimples again, so for now, he considered it a time out. A break. The rest between rounds. What chess players call an Adjournment.

 

***

 

It’s crazy to me how big of a divide there is between the generations. Adam is thirty-two, lets say, for the sake of argument, that the girls were in their early twenties.

That’s a decade.

As far as I know, it’s normal for men and women in their thirties to talk to each other in person. That’s how I grew up, but all it took was ten years for normal behavior to be looked at as strange, even worse, an indication of predator behavior.

A decade.

If those girls were older, that makes it even worse. It means it didn’t even take a decade.

Maybe Dimples was an outlier, but I suspect she wasn’t.

Anyway…