A thin, violet haze wisped around his shoulders as he stood silently gazing into the Gowanus Canal. It was pushed aside as he exhaled, only to be replaced with the smoke from his cigarette. His eyes were pensive and full of mystery, as if investigating the pieces of an invisible puzzle representing all the world’s problems and figuring out where they all fit. It was as if nothing could break that iron stare of concentration until something did - and that something was her. 

She sauntered along the water’s edge without a care in the world, like a colorful flower growing from a greasy sewer drain. Hard to imagine how she got there, and you’d think it wouldn’t be long until she no longer would be, but what a welcome respite amongst the dark and filthy backdrop. 

She seemed to pay him no mind as she neared him. This made him nervous. Sure, he was devilishly handsome, dressed as if he had just stepped out of a fine 19th-century clothier, but isn’t that who women were supposed to watch out for these days? His mind reeled thinking of something to say to her. As a seasoned salesman who started his career at the tender age of six selling tricycle insurance, he was talented at casting the verbal hook and reeling them in. He could sell a doghouse to a cat cafe if you challenged him to. But she was a stunner, a deal of a lifetime, a closing sale. Everything must go. 

“Hey.”

Her voice pierced through his anxious thoughts like a spear and brought him crashing back to the musky stream they stood beside. He flicked his hair back and took a deep drag of his cigarette before looking her way, as if to show her he was a man with a busy schedule. He had important things that needed doing. He was a guy who knew a dame in trouble when he saw one. Or maybe he just knew a troubled dame. Or maybe this dame was trouble. Maybe he just couldn’t tell the difference anymore.  

“Smoke?” He offered her a thin, pink Capri cigarette, complete in its Cruella de Vil cigarette holder; opera-length, of course. 

“No thanks. I have my own.” She pulled a breadstick out of her purse and gave it a pantomime puff. 

His heartbeat quickened. This was a classic broad, to be sure.

“Wow. Self-sufficient and old-fashioned too. I haven’t seen anyone smoke one of those since my sixth birthday party. So what’s a gem like you doing in a quarry like this?”

She smiled slightly. “No colors in the world shine as bright as when the sun sets on the Gowanus. I come here for inspiration.”

“And what do you do that needs inspiring?”

“I’m in advertising. They tell me what needs selling and I make it look like it’s worth buying.”

Her vibes made sense to him now. She was one part Don Draper, one part Jessica Rabbit, maybe one part Olive Oyl. A chemist couldn’t concoct a finer combination. 

“Well, I’m in sales,” he said. “They look at what needs selling and I tell them why it needs buying.”

“And the Gowanus Canal inspires you to do that?”

“No. I just like being dramatic.” He flicked his cigarette into the water and flicked his hair in the air. 

She laughed. “You sold me. Let’s go grab a drink.” She walked off into the mist without waiting for his response. 

“How do you know I’m buying what you’re selling?” he called after her. 

No response was returned. He followed. 

—-

Just kidding. We met on OKCupid. Emily was super late to the first date and Sam talked a lot about cannibalism. Later, we got engaged.