Waving

I'm in the cafe at B&N. The man in the grey shirt looks over his shoulder at me. It’s that kind of tick of a look, the kind that you cant control.
Its all right man. I know the feeling. I try to hide it behind sunglasses, that way I can let my eyes go where they please…. That way they ones i stare at don’t notice that I'm looking-
O man, come on…
He’s switched his seat, got up and is now sitting on the other side of his table, he’s watching me over the top of his magazine.
Man, your so obvious!
…maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I should be so obvious. Next time I’ll take my sunglasses off, let the one i stare at see that I'm eating him up! - like candy, like colors, he’s turning to gooey sticky paint as my eyes slurp him towards me.
But if he saw then he’d know.
The glasses are also really nessessary you know, for other reasons. Really. The wind is blowing and if I take them off my hair will get into my eyes. The sunglasses stay on.

“Ai! Ai! Ai!” says the baby waving at me from his stroller.
I wave back.
The waving is the problem.
No waving.
My silent screaming eye searching is one sided.