Cellophane (She had me at "I know")

Sixty seconds. That’s all it took. One lousy minute. For her to take what I thought up to that point was a pretty cool party of a life and turn it on its head.
60 seconds…1 minute. The amount of time it took for her to walk into the room, slip off her shoes (they were slip-ons, I remember that. The brown sequined ones I think. I wonder if she still has those) and half amused, half she still didn’t know what to think of me, watch as I vomited my opening line, my grand entrance into the story of her life all over her pretty little toes.
I’ll be the first to admit, it wasn’t the grandest of entrances. It was three words. No riveting monologue. No sweeping of the feet. Three. Simple. Words. And not very good ones at that. They were the first three words that popped into my head. And they weren’t even the traditional,
“How are you?”
Maybe I should have said something else. Thought about it a little more. But then, maybe not. And maybe it’s not too far of a stretch to think that in those 3 simple words she even found me charming. I don’t know. We never really did do a memory lane of that night. I mean, sure we looked at the pictures a couple of times, yes there were pictures, probably lost now but we never really sat down and talked about it. Made an attempt to relive it. Get each other’s side of the story.
After all this time and I still don’t know what her first impression of me was. In those first few minutes, I mean. Before the alcohol and the dancing and the hand holding and the cigarettes and the kissing and the waking up the next morning and the asking me for a t-shirt…before any of it. I still don’t know…
“You’re really tall...”
Yup, that’s what I said. Those were my famous first words. I find it kind of embarrassing actually. Like, was that really the best you could do? Make some obvious observation about her appearance that wasn’t even really a compliment?
And here I thought I was good words…
Red nail polish. That’s something else remember. On her fingers and her toes. Red was her color in those days.
And these days? I really couldn’t tell you. Although if I was to guess, I would have to say that she outgrew the color red quite some time ago.
Gosh, you can’t imagine how much it sucks for me to know that I don’t even know that about her anymore.
Red nail polish. White jeans and this green, short sleeved turtle neck thingy that I really don’t know how to describe. That was my first image of her. The way her clothes clung to your body accentuating how perfect I thought her body was. How perfect I think her body is.
And she was pretty.
My attraction to her was instant. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The entire night. I’m pretty sure that she noticed. I mean, I wasn’t exactly trying to be discreet about it. But then, maybe she needed the attention that night. In spite of the not so true although more true than not things she had heard about me. Maybe she needed to lock lips with someone. To rub her hips against someone. To lose herself as much as she could with someone, without losing herself completely to that someone. Only she knows.
And her answer? To my unconventional three word introduction? Probably the best answer she could have given anyone in such a situation. Two words that trumped my three to shit. That for some reason I still can’t put a finger on, made her all the more appealing. That in my mind had me.
She pursed her lips. Looked at her friend then looked back at me without turning her head. She had that amused look back on her face…
“I know.”