An Evening of Change.

The evening perplexed the young girl, who teetered on the edge of her seat the entire night--her eyes wide with innocent fascination at the colorful lights skipping from one wall to another, and at the ancient Persian women denying their true ages with lipstick four shades too bright, high-heeled shoes and body-squeezing leggings. The young girl spied the oldest woman blow the musician a kiss, her wrinkled hand outstretched, her blindingly pink lips pursed in a pathetic pucker. The night continued on with a stern look from the teenage waiter. The young girl interpreted it as a poor attempt (on his part) to appear strict yet seductive. It was the “I mean business” look flung so readily at young, pretty girls who frequented the restaurant as often as the cook frequented the gym--this number being so small that it would prove a waste of both time and ink to discuss it. The night ended, in a flurry of wet kisses, tender handshakes and genuine promises to meet in the future, perhaps at the same restaurant…The young girl stepped outside, an indescribable fire inside her heart suddenly ignited while a greedy need for male attention hummed within her. She strode forward into the light, so that her new-found confidence became brilliantly illuminated, and one young male passerby could not help but notice.