Stared Senseless

I often catch people staring at me.

I’d like to think it’s because of my matinee idol looks, but I think it’s more because of my one uneven nostril.

I never thought it was that noticeable, but I guess it is.

And it’s not like I’m laying traps trying to catch people staring at me…I’m not…but a lot of times I’ll look up from what I’m doing and there they are…staring.

Maybe staring is the wrong word. It’s not like they’re there with their mouths agape, or fallen to their knees muttering.

I suppose it’s more of a quick glance.

And then they turn their heads away, real quick, as if someone across the room just slipped on a banana peel.

But by then it’s too late; I’ve already spotted them.

Once you make eye contact, you’ve been made.

And it works the opposite way as well.

If you’re staring at someone and they look up at you, make eye contact, even if just for a millisecond, looking away only makes you look guilty of something…like maybe dropping the banana peel.

But we all do it…and none of us ever call the starer on it; probably because in some way we’re all a little flattered…until we look in the mirror later and discover that small piece of rigatoni stuck to our cheek.

Late night snack mishap; I thought I’d gotten most of it off my pillow….

And why is it that if you do happen to come upon someone who catches your eye, for whatever reason, even if they’re 20 feet away, the second your focus lingers on them a moment too long they….

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