I was standing in line at the local Seven-Eleven. Suddenly, I found myself hypnotized by the hairline in front of me. I wasn't sure if I was developing a crush on the guy before me or his barber; his haircut was immaculate. The edges looked airbrushed!
Thanks to the cashier-in-training, we were in line awhile, I started to check out the rest of his backside. From the posterior view, he was in decent shape. Judging by the nape of his neck, his apparel and the woodsy cologne filling my nostrils, I made him out to be very clean cut. Looking downward at his manicured hands, I took that as a beautiful confirmation.
Taking one step at a time towards the register. Looking at his flawless skin and the hint of red on his ears, I started to create a fantasy character. I began to fill in the mysteries of his front side.
Paying for his Rockstar and Winterfresh, I hear his deep voice say softly, "Thank you." Catching a glimpse of his face...I kicked myself for letting my imagination run so far away. Let's just say: I was sadly disappointed. Unless his barber happened to be a plastic surgeon as well, I had no reason to draw a correlation between his face and his line up.
What's wrong with me?
The next time I find myself captivated by the back of someone's head, I'll cherish my fantasy and avoid seeing the front side.