The Allure of a Smile

As I mentioned yesterday, I recently had my first visit with a new, female, thoroughly hot optometrist. Through the course of the appointment, I had every expectation that I would be sexually fantasizing about her later. She had silky black hair, beautiful skin, a curvaceous figure, and those breasts whose maddening degree of exposure so bedeviled me all through the examination. Beyond that, her demeanor and personality exuded a friendly, smart, positive presence of the kind that I find always adds to a woman's attractiveness. Given her extreme physical and personal charms, and given the immense frustration of having to perpetually wrestle my eyes out of their attempts to dive into her cleavage, an indulgence in lewd fantasy seemed inevitable.

But when the next available opportunity presented itself, and I set the stage by imagining myself returning to the optometry office, I couldn't help but put her receptionist behind the receiving desk. And when she called the doctor up, a curious twist occurred. Instead of seductively leading me back to the examination room, drawing the door closed, and revealing the contents of her sleek, form-fitting green dress, the doctor simply answered a couple of questions I had and excused herself to go home for the evening, after which I banged the secretary on the office floor.

Why in the world did this happen (imaginarily)?

The receptionist wasn't an unattractive woman, but she certainly didn't possess the lush figure that her employer was blessed with. And while her slimness and modest curves would probably have looked quite good in an outfit as revealing as the optometrist's, she wasn't wearing an inherently sexy dress, but a plain blue one with a neckline high enough that it avoided showing off even her collarbones. She had glasses too, and wore her hair up instead of free and flowing. Her nose was a bit large, although just a bit.

So what caused me to pass her boss by and gratify my desires with the receptionist's imagined concupiscence instead?

It was this: upon arriving at the office that afternoon, I went to the reception window, where this woman looked up and smiled. Not a giant smile of solar radiance - just a genuine expression of welcome. She asked me the requisite questions, still smiling, and she had me fill out the typical forms. Then, while I waited, she engaged two additional patients a few minutes apart, each of whom had distinct, individual requests - and each of whom received a distinct, individual smile.

Don't get me wrong; the optometrist smiled too, with a smile that was pretty, pleasant, and sincere. But it was a professional smile in the doctor's case, the smile of someone content in her work and aware of the importance of giving the patient a positive interaction.

The receptionist's smile was happy. Despite her lesser position, undoubtedly lesser financial security, lesser status, lesser physical proportions, less perfectly molded facial features, and basically, to all outward appearances, lesser everything, she had a truly happy smile.

And when I imagined my return to the office and imagined her greeting me, I also imagined that smile. Then, when I imagined the doctor appearing at her summons, I imagined the doctor's smile as well, and it simply didn't compare.

So my psyche banished the doctor away and took joy in the receptionist's entrancing happiness.

In real life, I interacted with both women politely and personably, doing my best to express my gratitude at the attention and help they each provided me, as I attempt to do with everyone I engage with at stores or offices, because people deserve that. In both of their cases, it required less energy and came more naturally than it would in the case of a surly grocery store clerk or a lazy restaurant server. But I tried to deal with them as equally as I do with anyone.

Once free in the unbounded realm of my imagination, though, I could not escape that smile, or resist the urge to possess and more viscerally please its owner.

The world is brightened by smiles. If we can be happy, we should do so, and we should share that happiness with those around us.

The results, as it turns out, are more attractive than mere raw sensuality.

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(Okay, full disclosure: I'm pretty sure I'll eventually get around to a fantasy about humping the optometrist too. I'm only human.)