unsuitable

I saw him in Cannes the first time I knew I wanted him. He was with a group of pretentious kuwaiti young millionaires ( I heard the girls talk) wearing identical ridiculous straw hats and linen shirts. His ruggedness and scruffiness were what drew me to him. He didn’t belong in those clothes, he was way too large and tall to be contained in such delicate material. A cigar in his calloused hand, he looked my way briefly and then never again. I was slightly dissapointed , I was all tanned and sombre haired and wearing a lovely white summer dress and he didn’t give me the day of day. Luckily he stayed in the same hotel as moi   , I had to have him. 

The next day I decided to play stalker and go to the exact same restaurant and lounge he was going to. I made an effort to look effortless; messy ponytail , statement earrings and less of everything else  

I didn’t tell any of the girls my plan of attaining Mr sexy afraid to jinx it . And I hoped as hell that he’d notice me this once. 

Our table was perfectly in the middle but I didn’t spot him or his friends. Where the hell was he? My heart was beginning to feel heavy with disappointment when My eyes finally landed on the bar ; where he was. With a girl. 

With a girl!

A gorgeous model like brunette with legs for days. “ tikfoon shofaw the kuwaiti guy over there ma3aah wa7da ajnabya wai moo layeg” I say to the whole group. 

“ I know who that is , egoloon he only dates foreign girls malat”

“ what?” Nooooooo

“ yes ma3roof madry shlaagi feehom, 7ta he dated that famous brazillian model”

“ 3ishtaaaaw”

And suddenly when I took a huge bite of bread, smudging my carefully applied lip stain, he decided to look my way and lock eyes...