On the power of hands

Years ago, Emilia worked in a bar for some time. One night, she witnessed a very sweet very drunk bum who'd gotten a gash on his head, and was being tended by a young nurse who happened to be there. As the nurse worked on him, he looked at her, rambling softly about how she had beautiful breasts, how he knew women like to be looked at, how he 'd want to make her one baby, or better : two, so they would never be lonely... if she'd only let him. What could have been harsh crude talk was actually tender, sincere, even respectful. Very vulnerable.
Afterwards, when Emilia asked the nurse how she coped with these things, she said she didn't mind because she had learned that when you touch (as in "put your hands on") very lonely persons, they sometime want to marry you on the spot. That's the effect hands can have, touching.

Sounds terrible. Well, it almost happened to me this afternoon, and I'm not even so lonely these days. During the whole second half-hour of the appointment, I seriously thought of proposing to the unknown osteopath who was kneading my sore back to a raw and happy pulp. Seriously.

(Yesterday, retouching. today, touching. Is there a pattern emerging here???)