Eye, Eye

Sometimes I question those "factoids" people give out sans any kind of actual documentation. Like the five second rule. What curteous germs we have, allowing you a full five seconds before infecting the food you drop on the ground. By that logic I don't even have to wash my hands, as long as I don't hold my food in it for more than five seconds. Chalk one up for improper grooming, and alert the hand soap companies they're on thin ice.

But there's one that I will no longer question, and it's the cliche that 90% of communication is non-verbal. Today I felt the full force of just how true that is. For you see, today I was interviewing young nubile ladies for the position of my colleague. That is to say, new representatives for my school. Let me pause to tell you that the vast majority of applicants (not even chosen by me mind you) were female (all but two), and hot (pretty much all of them except for maybe one or two older models). The next thing you should know is that they were all dressed to kill. Specifically to kill me, and even more to the point: to kill my ability to pay attention to anything else. They were all good looking (I have my eye on a certain one among them), but it was the last one that really caught my eye like the bears on the Discovery Channel catch salmon.

She did all the things the other girls did, she came in, she sat down, she nervously made polite conversation... but then she did something different. Something new. Something that caught me off guard, but something I was secretly hoping she would do. She, in her low cut top, push up bra, and perfectly tanned body... leaned forward. CLE-VAGE! I'm not even a breast guy, but this was amazing. I tried not to look, but my eyes were too fast... or else my will was too weak. Quickly, with speed that would make the Flash jealous, my green 20/13's darted over the supple mounds of gloriousness. Just as quickly they darted around the room. There was one male present other than myself, and he had been looking in her direction, not mine.

When later she repeated her little routine I looked to him first, then to her quickly (really quickly, so much that I was slightly dizzy afterwards and wondered if eyes could pull a muscle), then I looked back to the only other owner of a Y chromosome in the room (not allowing for the possiblity of Klienfelter Syndrome) and he was looking right at me. Our eyes met, his giving me a look of acusation, and mine shooting him double the reproachfulness he was attempting to give me. What is this guy a Sunday School Teacher? Had he not been looking?! Time literally stopped as we dueled with our eyes and our expressions.

"Pervert" his eyes said. "Dirty old man, you should know better. It's fine for me" my eyes shot back. "I caught you staring at her" his said. "Have you seen Lolita? I think you should" my eyes sarcastically quipped. But then someone asked me if I had a question for her and the spell was broken, time moved normally again, and strangely enough, so did my conversation. When teh other male and I talked later neither of us in any way acknowledged the event.

It's weird that so much can be said without words of any kind. But it's even weirder that people can then discard all that non-verbal communication and pretend it never happened. I don't know, am I alone here? Has anyone else ever been in one of these "We argued for about twelve hours without saying anything, but when we did both of us pretended to be perfectly fine" type things? If so, ;et's hear about it. If not, feel free to make things up. It's fun.