Man vs. Mimbo
It was the moment of truth, the day-time equivalent to last call. If he didn't close the deal before we parted ways this sunny afternoon, he may never have another chance.
"Is this where it ends?" he asked when we reached the park boundary, and seductively peeled off his sunglasses (if that's still possible since the Eighties). In the same movement, he turned to face me, allowing his sparkling green eyes opportunity to enchant me, and hit me where it hurts so good. He did it with such confidence, that it was clear the move has worked before, but likely on younger, far less jaded prey.
Obviously, he'd been told---aside from his dark brown skin, athletic build, sculpted facial structure and caramel-smooth voice---that his eyes are his most striking feature, the big guns, and that's why he saved them for this final play. After spending an hour with him, I believe that to be true; they are his best feature. At least he has something to fall back on.
Essentially, bringing a puppy to a city park is an invitation to speed-dating. A floppity, irresistible "in". This particular candidate's off-leash, tennis ball-addicted Boxer facilitated our initial introductions by shamelessly sliming my legs, toppling my coffee and, finally, snuggling up to my own furry-fiasco in a disarmingly cute display of puppy love. She was sweet and clever, and more subtle than her master, her end game well-executed.
I wasn't impervious to the twenty-something's immediate charms, physical (and fleeting) though they were, and my body language is the likely culprit that encouraged him to settle onto the grassy patch beside me. From there, he asked all the right questions while I wondered if I had croissant flakes stuck to my problem tooth, the one that seems to attract them.
He spoke to his dog with calm respect and control, and he touched on my small-talk favourites right away: bicycles and travel. Since my daily necessity is to exhaust my puppy (so I can work at home without sacrificing a summer shoe or two for a few moments of chew-free peace) I welcomed this harmless flirting to pervert my routine, and suggested we walk our dogs together.
Maybe it was beginner's luck, but he was off to a big, strong start. Despite his shortcomings, he did better than most so far this season, and it took him at least twenty minutes to out himself as a graphic sex-talking, bestiality-references-are-funny-thinkin', agree-with-everything, urban legend-believing, pretty-boy with an eye for my ass. When we stopped for a drink at a kiosk near the park exit, I found myself explaining that, although it looks similar, Sprite is not "sparkling water". I'd gotten myself a Mimbo. A male bimbo.
And now it was last call, and he'd made his move. There we stood, face-to-face in the moment of truth. "Thanks for the dog-walk," I said, edging away. One cute, needy mammal is really all I can handle. I softened the split with a gentle "see you in the park someday".
"I hope so," he yelled at my back, and a few more comments, but I thought it best not to stop. I kept walking until I was out of range of his enchanting green eyes, his best feature, and then circled around. Sure he'd gone home to ponder what went wrong and then promptly forget about me, I returned to the grassy patch, where my puppy slept at my feet, and avoided eye contact with strangers for the rest of that sunny afternoon.