Eric

My first impression of the man was he that he was old. He was a wearing a black shirt and dark blue jeans and walking around with a walking stick looking at the room diagnollay opposite to my room to stay. I dint think of him much but later that day i saw him sitting on the balcony alone with a black cigaret dangling from his mouth. I found him very intriguingly handsome. He is White, English and Stylish. I smiled at him and asked him the usual question.
Me: (Smiling) Hi I am so and so
Him: (smiles Back) Hi i am Eric.( we shake hands)
Me: How long are you here for and what are you doing?(you know the usual question we ask when we are travelling).
Him: I am not sure maybe for a day or two and then i have to leave for a film shoot and then maybe i will come back after that.
Me: Ohh Wow film shoot? Really?
Him: Nothing that interesting, They wanted a White old English male who paints and i just happened to be there and being a painter they were interested in me and they asked me to act in their movie and as i had nothing better to do I said yes. (shrugging)
Me: Wow thats interesting.. So you are a painter??
Him:  Yeah.. I paint a little. I dabble with paints.
Me: Do you have anything to show me??
Him: I have few on my phone, let me see if i can find some.( he scrolls through the phone and gives me his phone)
Me: While looking scrolling I find some pics with some interesting statues. I was intrigued and i say him.. Wow these are interesting, who’s are these?
Him: Ohh.. I made them….
Me: WHAT.. you are sculptor too. Wow thats so awesome.
Him: Yeah, I collect scarp and i creat something out it. poSo what do you do??
Me: I tell him.. Blah blah blah
I controlled the urge to pee and settled down to listen to him. When he’s shown his exhibition pictures i was smitten as Douglas Adams came for the opening his show. What could be more interesting to me that that? And That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We used to go for coffee and I started spending as much time as possible beaucase of the kind of stories he used to tell me. I was in awe of him and i guess little bit in love too.. He was such a proper gentleman with all the proper ettequet.
     His stories are funny, intriguing and he himself is quite fascinating. We used to speak about books, music, Painting (i don’t know a lot but still), Sculpting, travelling, Painters, His love life, me about My non existing love life. How he met his wife.. or how he is in India and how he once spend time with a sniper(I would love to meet him once too) I loved talking to him. He had enough storied tell to fill up my time and not being bored(which i might say, is very rare). He said how he once a met young singer who had magical voice who later turned out to be one of the bejees. I was constantly in awe. God how i loved(love) him. He is one of the Those i would miss no matter what. What are the chance of listening to rest of his stories? I wish i get to spend more time with him.
I wish some day I could make someone fall in love with me WITH MY STORIES 🙂