NTKOG #45: The kind of girl who, lasering forth volumes of feminine mystique and effortless seduction from between her carefully kohled eyelids, is able to win a man’s attention just by flashing him “live eyes.”
I am: wearing glasses, for starters.
I am not: a long, slow seduction. I am animated and utterly brilliant and kind of anxious all the time. Which, I mean, works. But not from across the aisle on a train. (Unless I am changing my clothes and you are a neo-Nazi, apparently.)
The Scene: Before we begin, for your edification, a little clarification on “live eyes”: it’s a concept created by the inimitable Tyra Banks, which she claims is the key to looking alive in a photo. In real-world terms, it’s sort of an open squint that adds some animation to yo’ dang face.
As for application, I present a trifecta:
On the train: Sitting across the aisle from me, a guy in his mid-20s, not really my type (too cute), but wearing unseasonable flipflops and bobbing his head slightly to the music he’s listening to. Just by looking at him, I can hear his cigarette streaked voice, the way it probably grinds and growls into function after he first wakes up.
Wait, what were we talking about?
So I focus my thoughts on him and live-eyes with all the (considerable) intensity I can muster. After only a few seconds, he looks up at me and we maintain eye contact for five or six long seconds. Then he stares back at his iPod. I continue live-eyesing him off and on — falling just short of Senior VP of Stalker Affairs, basically — and he keeps looking back at me. As he gets off the train (darn!), he looks over his shoulder at me for a second or two, then walks out of my life forever.
At the bagel shop: When I go to grab breakfast before work, I notice that my old favorite employee is gone — to my somewhat relief — and has been replaced with a guy about my age. One of those guys with flippy hair who quotes himself a lot on his AIM profile, you know? He seems sort of out of it, but I live-eyes him with searing intensity while ordering.
TKOG: Cinnamon raisin bagel, lite cream cheese, absolutely no drink or coffee.
Flippy Haired Banal Quoter: Sure, and — [he looks up and catches my eye. the rest of our conversation is weirdly unblinking.] and — do you want some coffee with that?
TKOG: Absolutely no drink or coffee.
FHBQ: Oh, yeah. Wait, what kind of light cream cheese? We have normal or scallion.
TKOG: Well, it’s a cinnamon-raisin bagel, so…
FHBQ: Okay, so…
TKOG: Plain. I’m guessing it’s been a long morning?
FHBQ: I don’t get it.
So. On the evidence of this, I’m going to go ahead and assume that the intensity of my live eyes actually turned off his higher brain functioning. Or that he’s a dude who works at a bagel shop. Either/or.
At Work: Oh, guys. Guys. It is no great secret — at least on my personal Twitter account — that I am hopelessly pining for one of the gentlemen who works in my office. He is very clever, early ’30s, absurdly handsome (at least for TKOG’s values of “absurdly handsome,” which run to paunchiness and thinning hairlines), and he does not know I’m alive. Sad day, right?
So I’m sitting at work, and he cuts in front of my reception desk on his way to the supply room. Good morning, he pleasant-office-blathers as he walks by. I swivel my chair to face him directly and beam him with my over-worked live eyes. Good morning, I tell him, radiating smile-with-your-friggin’-soul all over the office.
And guys! He pivoted on his heels and STOPPED IN FRONT OF MY DESK.
“Good morning!” he repeated. “It’s a really great morning, isn’t it? How are you on this great morning?”
YOU GUYS I AM NOT EXAGGERATING! He word-vommed all over me! I spent a moment … uh … rubbing said metaphorical vom into my skin (?!), then — answered him briskly and waited for him to go away so I could resume my quiet sighing and pining. ’cause I mean, dude, he’s a legit adult with a job and I just address labels for him, so, y’know, let’s not go messing up the natural order.
The Verdict: I am absolutely floored by how much live-eyes worked, with the possible exception of on the brain-dead bagel slinger. I mean, clearly it’s not that every man I passed was rendered hopelessly in love with me — not in the slightest — but it did seem to magically elevate what would have been a few very normal exchanges. I think it just goes to show that forcing yourself to be intensely in the present moment instead of passively retreating into your normal routines really does have an effect on people. It seems to make them more observant too, and make it easier to connect with someone, even if for only a moment.
From now on, I’m going to make way more of an effort to, when I look at people, show them that I’m really seeing them. Also: going to make an effort to start packing my own friggin’ breakfast. I mean, sheesh.
Not That Kind of Girl 