Preening

The front of the Towne House Restaurant in Oviedo is dominated by huge tinted windows, and when it’s sunny outside, those windows turn into one-way mirrors.

We were eating breakfast there the other day, sitting in a booth right next to the glass, when a cluster of college girls arrived outside. Two of them were wearing pink sweatshirts emblazoned with a sorority’s name.┬áThe third stood right next to us, just on the other side of the glass, and started preening and primping at her reflection. First she fluffed her hair, then she ran her fingers through it and pouted her lips.

It was a weird thing to eat breakfast next to, so I asked my youngest to wave. I figured that would be a nice innocuous way to get her attention without embarrassing her too much.

Giggling, he stood up on the bench and gave a shy wave.

She pursed her lips at her reflection, flipped her hair back, and gazed into her own eyes.

The little guy laughed and waved both arms, looking very much like he was trying to land a plane.

She turned sideways and pulled her shoulders back, then did the pouty face thing again.

By this time, both my boys were giggling, and my wife was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.

The boys waved at the girl in the window, big rapid hand gestures that could be seen all around the restaurant.

The girl turned to face the mirror and adjusted the hair around her face, then tilted her head back slightly and appeared to examine her own lips.

We went back to our breakfast, laughing.

In retrospect, I probably should have just knocked on the glass, but she kept it up through our entire meal, and was still doing it when we left. So it’s probably just as well that I didn’t.

She clearly needed her alone time.

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