Sitting at a table was a clean shaven, well groomed gent leaning into the chap sitting next to him, deeply engrossed in conversation, and with his hands and arms swaying in wild and rapid movements. His hands were well synchronized with his speech, and he could conduct a band quite well, if in another arena.
The gent's face was taut and tanned, all but his eyes and lips, for like his hands; they too were flitting about and drew my attention. The lips did not slow down in speed, and his eyed danced around the room, then seemed to settle and refocus on the person with whom he was conversing with.
I was intrigued by this man because of his stature and wild frenzied mayhem. The way he leaning so close to the fellow next to him, as if a lover engaging in a private, animated chat. This was not a lover, in fact I believe them to be strangers, brought together by chance at a friends wedding reception.
Watching and listening to their conversation I thought they seemed like an odd couple, for this interesting guest was lean and trim, almost athletic, while the other guest had an obese, disheveled appearance. He appeared at least a decade older than his enthusiastic and entertaining acquaintance.
Waving arms and moving lips, seldom losing their beat, kept their momentum, even when food was being laid on the table, and people were mingling and moving about, didn't interrupt the flow of rapid gestures, that seemed to be in time with the music. The sleeves on his shirt did not crease for they did not fold, or rest at any time, and the starched and tailored attire seemed to move in harmony, with a crisp cuff of ironed cotton.
Fascinated by his artistic dance-like enthusiastic manner, I was drawn to engage myself in conversation. I moved closer to him when the second gent left to get a drink. I found out my new found acquaintance was a doctor, and as he lent into me, he went into a whole new orchestral chat with hands like batons, telling me about his life as an orthopedics doctor.
As his arms fluttered and sent a soft breeze floating in my direction, and as his breath was felt on my skin, I had a real hard time concentration on what he was saying. He was certainly intoxicating, as my drink remained motionless, for fear of interrupting our interlude.