voices

here's what i first hear from the table nearby: you say you wanna go downtown? but we're already downtown, Buddy. the words are followed by a little chuckle -- a friendly sound that carries a hint of a kindly father speaking to his six-year-old kid.

i haven't looked up yet from the document i'm translating. i don't look up until i hear the same voice gently say: i don't think she heard you, Buddy. 

that's when i notice the twenty-year-old guy, wearing a black ball cap, black spongy runners, and thick unmatched socks pulled halfway up his calves, who's sitting at the same table as the thirty-something voice.

with an innocent, endearing, goofy grin on his face, Twenty slowly turns around to look me in the eyes and repeats what he'd apparently said before: hi. then he adds, articulating the syllables equally slowly: you're beautiful. i thank him, a couple of times (beaming goofily now myself), and then Voice -- clearly yet calmly proud of Twenty -- says, still with the hint of kindly parent: yep, that's how you make friends, Buddy. you say hello, and then they say hello back.

immediately, Twenty -- whom i can't take my eyes off of -- turns to the young woman at the table on the other side of them. hi. you're beautiful! he says.

the woman responds much like i had. and then, through more friendly chuckling, Voice announces: ok, Buddy, i'll take you downtown now.

Twenty slowly, eagerly stands up from the table and moves towards the door, completely unaware (it would seem) of his precarious footing, and having perhaps already forgotten about the other woman and me. but no one minds. the thrill and urgency of getting downtown are palpable and contagious. and, besides, we are now all basking drunk in the loud sun of friendship.

and now back to translating...