Halo effect

It was on a rainy Wednesday night when I got caught on the “Halo Effect” trap once again. After a regular day at the office, I decided to call a good friend of mine to indulge ourselves in a good conversation among beers. In a matter of minutes, our recurring chat started at idle speed at the marina’s bar. Depeche Mode’s “Music for the masses” album was furiously filling the location with electronic tones, providing rhythm and motivation for some sailors to shake the salt out of their skin. I love my job, it bring me closer to this maritime scene filled with my kind of archetypes.

Under the dim lights, you could see the usual suspects hanging around by the end of the bar, telling tales of untamed seas and long gone bravery. "Boomvang," the marina's dark Labrador greets me with the usual wave of his tail, as soon as I approached him, he gracefully turned around and showed me his belly, a sign of deep trust for the one who every morning sits with him before opening my office door. On the opposite corner, Philippe and Sabrina were with Giles and Marie, a French speaking table with a strong Marseille accent, filled with mundane conversations with the occasional interruption of the bartender wiping away the warm wet circles on the table. Two of my new clients, a Canadian sailor with his skinny, bleach-colored haired wife entered the bar waiving at me from afar. When you’re the lawyer of the sailing community with an office inside the marina, everyone knows you, you become either the problem solver, or the trouble maker.

While sitting there, beers at hand, I got a glimpse of some unfamiliar faces, by their looks, you were able to tell that they were either German or Scandinavians. One of the girls was a petite short-haired blonde with somewhat tanned skin, contagious smile, and gorgeous blue eyes that glowed even brighter than any of the light bulbs inside the location. The other, an athletic shaped girl, maybe in her mid-to-late 20s, with hypnotic blue eyes, immaculate skin, and a smile to die for.

It was unconceivable to imagine this kind of girls all alone in a bar, but it was a recurring situation inside the marina. When you’re travelling the world on a sailboat, sometimes you need some time on your own, away from your partner. Remember, your story becomes your partner’s story too, you need to hear something new every now and then; you get tired of your crewmate rambling around the same old stories over and over again. By the way these ladies were dressed with their tank tops and shorts, we could figure that their main plan was not a girl’s night out. My plainspoken friend said, “Leave it to me. I know German, let’s talk to them.”

We got closer, my friend asked "Sind sie aus Deutschland?", In clear and polite English the tallest answered, “Sorry? We are not German, We’re Danish.” After his mistaken assumption, things started to gain momentum at a frantic pace. The Lawyer and the Engineer moved swiftly on the thin ice of this casual rendezvous. Speaking in English with this couple of gorgeous Danes, we skated our way to an incredible experience.

The tallest one told me that they were visiting a Danish friend, a sailor who happens to have his boat docked at the Marina where my office was; “He works as a cook in a nearby restaurant, he left for his shift 20min. ago.” The short-haired girl -let us call her Livia- added, “We decided to hang around for a little bit longer before heading to the hotel.” While listening to her friend, my eyes peaked at the gorgeous pair of toned legs the one I liked had.

In a matter of minutes Elle and I began to talk like old acquaintances. For me is not that easy to break the ice and start a random conversation with a total stranger. I know, it’s useful for work, but when it comes to interpersonal relationships, it never goes as planned. I find it difficult to interact at ease, maybe is the “Saboteur” inside of me that takes charge and do as he pleases.

It was hard for me to focus on anything else besides her. I was simply mesmerized by uncanny beauty. There’s no mystery about it, we all feel attracted to what’s different. She was as thrilled as I was, with her gaze fixed in my dark walnut eyes, while mine got lost in hers, we managed to block any distraction and put whole attention into each other’s voice.

One of the things I did notice is the fact that she was into the song that was playing at that exact moment. Depeche Mode was still spinning thanks to Liam and Lucas (a couple of English sailors who love to drink beer every single afternoon.) She moved gracefully with the beat, doing a quirky dance when the line, “You’re behind the wheel tonight!” echoed around us. The way her blonde hair defied gravity was beyond believe, every time she turned her head to face me, her modest curls travelled from her shoulders to her cleavage like water coming down from a stream. As time passed by, the distance between us got smaller, the game was on.

To make the long story short, we ended up inside of this small family hotel right by the sea not more than 10 minutes away from the marina. My friend and Liv said goodbye to us and headed straight to the beach for a late-night swim. As you might guess, the situation between us escalated quickly, I was being lured without restrain by this mermaid without a tail. I still remember the smell of her perfume lingering in the air as the first rays of sunlight stabbed unexpectedly the darkness of the room. With great effort, we managed to get out and catch the early morning sun.

It was beautiful outside, a crisp, bright morning welcomed us with open arms. Elle positioned right beside me to give me a demoniacally passionate kiss while she snuggled in my arms. Imagine the picture, two furtive lovers resting in the bare sand, just like a couple of cold blooded reptiles on a Thursday morning at 7:10Am. Protected only by the shadow of a large palm tree, she said something I would never forget, “Giovanni, if there’s a paradise, it should look like this.” I guess she was under the spell of the “Halo Effect” too; bewitched by it, you only see what you want to see. You know what’s happening, you’re ready to pay the full price, unwilling to count the cost.

Two more encounters sealed our fate, we never spoke again. She left for her damp, cold, Copenhagen, while I stayed in my idyllic, sunbathed paradise. One of the last things I said to her was, “Elle, be always grateful that we got the chance to find each other and experience this momentary state of grace.”

Depeche Mode still triggers memories of her alluring deep blue eyes, the eyes of a mermaid stranded in paradise for a limited time.