I easily fall in love.

No, not a good beginning. Let’s try again.

As an extravert (in the Jungian sense), I tend to spend much more energy, than my introversive family and friends (who use mine). To get energy back I can sleep, eat, be alone, sport or … spend some time with my positively emotional “activator” – Ethical Sensory Extrovert (aka ESFJ, aka Enthusiast, aka “Victor Hugo”). (Preferably female ;-)

No, not good enough again. Who cares about psychology. Another attempt.

She’s a project coordinator from another country. After a couple of phone conference calls, business e-mails and chats I searched for her name on the Internet and discovered her accounts on LinkedIn, Facebook, Picasa, Google+ and a pair of other social nets. Like me she’s registered everywhere. On the photos she looked similar to what she sounded on the calls. Young, long haired, coquettish, giggling, “fashionistish” and easily distractable from work. Nothing special, but … catchy.

Last week I planned an appointment at one of our remote offices, but the guy I was going to meet suggested one day earlier, because she was travelling around and decided to look at us in person. Of course, I agreed.

She turned out to be taller and much slimmer, than I thought. I can’t call her beautiful (also, I do not like a visible make-up), but so charming and bewitchingly smiley, that I found myself staring at her teeth and corners of my mouth pulled up to my ears.

She was wearing tight pencil 15cm above her knees very dark brown skirt, some kind of vest (I’m not good at properly describing clothes), ~12cm grey high heels and … yes, you guessed right – thin, barely visible, skin toned with a pale greyish overtone (to match her heels and skin?), slightly shining under the direct light pantyhose. On stunning slender legs. Despite it was almost +30. And very long sophisticatedly painted nails.

We were waiting for her in a typical long office corridor. I remember this moment as it was in a dream or a fairy-tale. Dark corridor, thin long elegant fashion-drawing-like silhouette soaring towards us from “the light at the end of the tunnel”, long legs, long arms, long hair… She tried to excuse herself from the lunch, but we managed to convinced her (yes, more jokes from my side, sorry ;-)

On the way to the canteen, we had to cross a busy road. Despite she’s very confident in walking on high heels, it was quite difficult to find a sufficient interval between passing cars to walk to the other side. I suggested her to take off her heels and run. She jokingly pointed at my shoes and asked:”Wanna a swap? But you will need to do this to stop the traffic” and she flirtatiously brushed her hair with a hand.

These things happened to me before. There were eight of us, but it was only me and her who existed, who was constantly talking, who was joking, who was laughing (also at each other). The rest disappeared. It felt like a puzzle which instead of semi-recognizable noise (“What? What do you mean?” “Errmmm …”, when you do not understand what the other person means, what to say and how to react) suddenly reveals a familiar picture.

I was doing my best to avoid two things: looking in her eyes and at her legs. The former was rather easy, But the latter … Of course, I used all the chances when I was behind, or nobody was looking at me.

I saw her three more times. At a “coffee break”, when I asked her if she needs anything from me – business-wise (pity, but the answer was no), and when she came to our room to say good-bye. I’m a bad politician, because I can’t keep a poker-face and I have no idea what people feel or think about me (yes, back to psychology).

She definitely can. She did notice the expression on my face: “Oh… you’re so upset!”. Yeah, I was. I mumbled something in response trying to make another joke. We shook hands and she disappeared. Fortunately.

Fortunately she lives in another country. Fortunately I do not have to deal with her on a daily basis. Fortunately I will not see her again.

Because I easily fall in love.

Hopefully I was not too annoying, rude or impolite. I don’t know if I was, and there’s nobody who can tell me.

But one thing still bugs me… What if she had not have pantyhose on?

No, she’s not on any of the photos.

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