Spontaneous Wink Sends Juice Into La La Land

My winking skills were at their prime when I was waiting tables, and I'm afraid they have been waning over the last year or so. In fact, I don't even remember the last time I winked at someone (other than myself every time I look in the mirror). What a travesty. I had forgotten until today what a marvelous and powerful piece of communication the wink is. I was watching a hearing this morning, and the prosecutor--who I know, remotely--winked at me on her way out of the courtroom. Wow, I sighed, as I floated into a magical place filled with tingly and special feelings recognizable to those who spend their lives seeking attention, an ongoing manifestation of middle-child syndrome. Winks are so great. In the tiniest piece of a second, the wink sends this sweet and private little message: Hey, I like you. Or, you and I are the only ones who get this joke. Or, I totally saw you spit that out and feed it to the dog but I won't tell. Winks are so much better than smiles, which, frankly, are the cheap street whores of non-verbal communication. You can smile at anyone, a thousand times a day, including and maybe especially at people you don't like. But you don't wink at someone you don't like. (Unless you are waiting tables. But that is a whole different story.) Unfortunately, my wink is now a bit rusty. I have to try too hard; my face scrunches up, it takes too long. Maybe next year, when I am done learning my left and right I will start working on my wink again. Unless I start waiting tables again, of course.

I enjoyed a lovely happy hour with Dr. Rasmussen after work today and now have sequestered myself in the Sky Lounge to do homework all night. My sweet spouse (who has an excellent wink, by the way) picked up a starbuckies for me on his way home so I'm all set for a night of fun times.