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I know she goes to Northern Illinois University, works at the Northern<br />
Illinois University Bookstore, is majoring in art, most likely painting, and<br />
that she made me feel good about myself at nine thirty in the morning while<br />
I waited for anywhere selling food to open its doors.<br />
Instructions on how to make a pretty girl:<br />
•Black hair, parted off center poking out from behind her ears, cut short<br />
in sharp curls under the jawline.<br />
•Soft bright cheekbones.<br />
•Big smile, but only after making eye contact, reactionary smiles are<br />
appealing, pasted on smiles are terrifying.<br />
•Green turtleneck... olive green, almost brownish, loosely woven.<br />
•Big doe-ish dark eyes. The eyes are what matters.<br />
I noticed her while debating whether burnt sienna or burnt umber would<br />
offer me a better array of colour relationships. Her manager, a shorter man,<br />
graying blonde beard and dark, glazed eyes, the left one just a bit higher<br />
than the right, instructed another employee, a black kid in a red hooded<br />
sweatshirt, bald with arthritic fingers of hair descending from his chin, and<br />
pointy ears, to keep an eye on anyone wandering into the art history section<br />
of the upper level, presumably where the nude photography books were kept.<br />
My mind raced with images of wide eyes and full body blushes.<br />
I turned away and so did she. She smiled. I smiled back. She didn't look<br />
away. I did.<br />
I was circling the pottery shelf, wondering why I've never bothered with<br />
three dimensional art when she asked me if I was an oil painter.<br />
I didn't ask her any questions. I answered hers with half smiles and told<br />
her I had to leave because my friend, whom I was visiting from Iowa... uh<br />
yeah, I'm from Iowa... oh no, it's not that bad... okay it is that bad, but at<br />
least it's not Nebraska... where was I? Oh yeah, my friend passed out last<br />
night and I should really make sure he's still in that bush. You have a nice<br />
day. Thank you.<br />
I realized I hadn't asked her name. I decided to buy my oil paints, but<br />
only after grabbing a sketchpad and giving her another half faced smile.<br />
Part III<br />
A Cheese Dog Before Noon<br />
Or<br />
I Should Have Asked that Girl For Her Name or if She'd Ever Considered<br />
Quitting Her Unfulfilling Career at the Bookstore and Drive Away with Some Stranger<br />
at 9:37 on a Saturday Morning<br />
Kyle Mangan
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