Sometimes lunch is lunch. You go to your local spot, order the usual, look out the window at nothing special, eat up, see you tomorrow. Same same. If there’s a new face, maybe you watch a little closer. But mostly, it doesn’t rate so you don’t bother.
Other times…you’ve heard about these times, read about them in paperbacks, watched movies about these times. When lunch goes past lunch to the rest of your life.
Maybe you met on the train, or your boss introduced you so you could take her off his hands. Or maybe — whoops, there goes the tray with lunch and now you’re wearing it. And boy, are you pissed. Until you look up.
It’s like you’ve never seen a woman before. Or maybe you’ve seen thousands. Millions. But then…wham. Right between the eyes.