I’m visiting the city of San Fernando’s Starbucks and there’s this attractive woman—roughly 40, nice face, great body—seated in one of the two corner chairs, conversing with a large, mustached man who nods occasionally, apparently listening intently.
I get my coffee then find a seat just a few feet from them—more because I wanted to snag one of their comfy chairs as soon as they got up than because of the great view.
But, sure, yeah—she made it a good view. So, sue me. I appreciate beauty.
However, that’s when I discovered what they mean by…
Beauty is only skin deep
It was kind of like that sunset-splashed greeting card I once saw that said on the front, “From the moment I saw you, I knew I was in in love…” and on the inside said, “And then you turned around and I saw your face.” In this case, the inside of the card that I would write for this occasion would say:
“And then I heard your voice”
That voice. Yikes. A complete mismatch to the elegant, graceful lines of her lithe body and the classic beauty of her face.
What was it like? Imagine how it would sound if a goat could speak English.
That’s her. Grating. Whiny. Nasally.
Her voice was so nasally that I couldn’t imagine being in a conversation with her for more than three minutes without losing my mind.
Too bad. Because she then she proceeded to talk at the man sitting next to her for over 20 minutes without taking a breath.
I’m sure the man was enraptured by her physical beauty, because it couldn’t be her conversation, which was shockingly dull in spite of the shockingly memorable quality of her voice, which made listening to her words an unbearable torture.
Is it fair? No, it isn’t fair
It’s not fair that she was born with such an ungodly quacker.
It’s not fair of me to judge a person by her vocal quality.
It’s not fair of of her to make such a pleasant first impression and dash it to hell when she opens her mouth.
It’s not fair that the large, mustached man couldn’t get a word in if he wanted to.
It’s not fair that God made me too shallow to see past this lady’s b-a-a-a-a-a-a-d vocal quality so as to give her inner beauty a chance to show itself.
But you know what is fair?
It’s fair that she eventually took a breath … when she got up to leave.
It’s fair that I was rewarded for my patience by snagging her comfy chair when she left.
It’s fair that God gave the large, mustached man an exclusively visual way of approaching relationships, such that he did not seemed phased in the slightest by either her nonstop talking or her goat-like tone.
It’s fair that they found each other.