Never Ending Curiosity

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Never Ending Curiosity
May 13, 2003

The men in my life can’t tolerate my never ending curiosity. I have always been this way; it’s part of my wiring. I know. I should let things go. Blank out my mind like some clean mirror and think about swirling clouds or floating bubbles or something calming. But. I don’t work that way. I never have. It perplexes all the men in my life.

My friend, Mark, told me the story of a woman sitting next to him on a flight between Denver and London. The story he tells of this six hour flight has the power to unglue me, even today. Because I have unanswered questions that continue to call for resolution. Have you any idea how crazed unanswered questions can make me?

Ok. Imagine this. It seems that this very plain woman sat next to him on this flight. She arrived in plain clothes with no make up. She sat in the window seat and kept to herself during the flight.

Well, during the flight, this woman went through a complete and total transformation. She went from frumpy plain, to stunning. I wish I could have been there. Mark’s description is sort of sketchy.

She spent HOURS applying make up from a large, professional make up kit. She used brushes of graduated sizes, powders, gels, creams and what Mark insisted was ‘goop.’ He is quite sure that she would get the world record for the amount of time spent expertly crafting her face.

“She knew what she was doing?” I asked, doubtfully.

“She had complete and total control of those brushes. She layered creams and powders, one after the other. Oh. Believe me. She was a pro.” Mark insisted. And. He should know. He has a habit of dating beauties who know their way around make up.

“Why would a professional make up artist go out in public without make up on?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

I was ready for some details. “Ok. So. Who was she going to meet?” I asked.

“I have no idea.”

“You didn’t ask her?”

“Holly.” He was surprised, “I didn’t know her.”

“You sat next to her for six hours and didn’t start a conversation with her? Didn’t think to ask her why she was hiding her identity? Where she was going? Who she was going to meet?”

“No. She was just somebody sitting on a plane.” He said, staring at me as if I had two heads.

I stared hard at him. How could this man be my good friend? Had he not one ounce of curiosity inside of him?

“Mark. I don’t get it. Didn’t you want to know what was up?”

“I wondered, but it was none of my business.” He said, quietly.

“Mark. NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS? How could you NOT ask her?” I insisted. I started pacing back and forth like a caged animal. I couldn’t possibly imagine not asking.

“Well. She had this incredible, trendy outfit, too. She changed in the bathroom.” He offered.

“Did you at least tell her how great she looked?” I asked.

“No.”

“You didn’t say anything?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Holly. You don’t just ask people about their personal stuff.”

“Yes you do! Of course you do! Do you think that you should just ignore the people around you?” I implored.

“Well. I wasn’t ignoring her. I was working on my computer. It isn’t like I was just sitting there staring at her. I had work to do.” He raised his hands in explanation.

“Mark. How could you totally disregard her like that?”

“How could I invade her space?”

I was so upset. There was no way to ever find out her story.

“She did look really good when she was done.” He offered. “Like a movie star.”

Oh. That only made it worse. A lot worse.

My friend, Ralph, uses my curiosity against me almost daily. He’ll call me and leave a leading message.

“Hi. I have to tell you something really good. Hurry. Call me.”

I call. I call. I call. I finally get through.

“Oh. Good. You’re there. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“What did you want to tell me?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, Ralph. You had something good to tell me. What is it? Stop messing with me.”

“I don’t remember, Holly. Sorry. I’m too tired to joke around. I am going to sleep. Goodnight. I will talk to you tomorrow.”

I know. It’s predictable. I have to stop being so predictable.

Ivan just called. He said that last night in the bar there were these two bald guys sitting at a table next to him. They came in, ordered a drink, then sat silently for the rest of their visit. They had a short conversation about leaving, then got up and left at the same time.

I am consumed with curiosity. Are they brothers and having a family reunion? Lovers who are basking in togetherness? Skinheads looking for a fight? Just plain boring people with nothing to say? Would they liven up a bit if there was a beautiful woman around? Do they ever liven up? What kind of car do guys like that drive? And what kind of beer would guys like that drink? And why doesn’t Ivan know any of this?

And. I wonder. If we curious woman of the world had a pity party for ourselves, who would come? (Just wondering.)

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About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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