adventures in smiling at strangers (part three)

I smiled at an androgynous Sri Lankan woman in her early thirties today.

Wearing a pale blue tuque, and reading a novel (outside the building where I work) on my lunch break, we made eye contact as she came and sat down at the edge of the fountain next to me.

The smile she gave me was saying, "Okay if I sit here?".
My response smile, "Sure, it's nice here right now! I'm happy to share this space with you, nameless friend!"

As I continued to read, I became increasingly aware that I was still being smiled at.
I tried to ignore it, but I could feel the energy of the smile hitting me against the side of my face.

I continued to read the same paragraph of my novel over and over, not even aware of what the words were saying, but just being aware of the energy washing over me, under the direction of the woman's smile.

Using my peripheral vision, I stole a glance at the woman. She was unwrapping her lunch, but still she had this smile on her face, and her eyes seemed transfixed on me.

Turning my head toward her, I made eye contact again, but only for the briefest moment before she quickly darted her eyes away, but only her eyes. Her face was still pointed in my direction, still smiling, as her eyes looked out across the street.

I returned to the same sentence in my book and re-read it a few times, but my mind would not take in the words. I was too distracted. I could only be ever more aware of the strangeness of this smiling woman.
I didn't think she was amused. I didn't think she was giving any particular emotional response except that she was happy, smiling like some dishevelled backpacker who had found enlightenment on a 3 month trek in Tibet.

As she continued to eat her Steamroller wrap, I noticed that her smile dropped for a moment as she brought her food closer for inspection. Momentarily, she picked at something in her food, took a moment to classify the foreign object and then cast it aside with a flick of her hand, along with her look of concern. No sooner had her problem been solved than the smile swept back over her face.

We both sat there.
I, with book. Her, with lunch and smile.

As she wrapped up the final third of her Steamroller, she stood up at which time we made eye contact again. She lingered for a moment, her smile growing into a grin as I looked her in the eye once more. Then, without a word said, she turned about and walked away.

As I felt the warmth of her smile's energies drift away, I sighed with the same small enlightened smile on my own face and returned to my book and re-read the paragraph I had read more than ten times over without consequence,

"Martinis in hand, sitting on the balcony once more, the women took in the view of the bay in the fading sunlight. "Maeve, honey. You've got to go back there and get him! Give it everything you've got! You know what they say, Smile -- it's the second best thing you can do with your lips!""