At Cafe Alma the other night, I managed to chat up a couple of drop-dead gorgeous girls. Don’t ask me how; I guess all three of us reached coincidental optimal drunk points.

They both looked great, both my type. I couldn’t really decide which one I should concentrate on. By default, I wound up talking more to the one on my right, slightly closer to me; her name was Kat. She seemed more interested than her friend did, so it seemed to work out. But I couldn’t help but continue to divide my attention between the two of them.

At one point, the friend excused herself to step outside for a smoke. Kat noticed me checking her out as she walked out. When I turned back to talk to Kat, she had a big smile on her face, and she motioned for me to lean my head in to her so she could whisper something to me. I did, and she said:

“All the boys think she’s a spy.”

I smiled back, nodded, and bought her a fresh drink. She seemed satisfied by this reaction, and we continued our night.

I had no idea what she was talking about.

The words stayed stuck in my head all weekend. Today, I finally plugged them into a search engine, and found their source: Kim Carnes’ “Bette Davis Eyes”.

A pretty dated reference, coming from a girl who’s probably not much older than the song itself. Also not a song I ever particularly cared for. But I wouldn’t hold it against her.

Even after this revealation, though, something about those words nagged at me. Something else suggested itself in my mind, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Then, about an hour ago, it came to me. I went to my bookcase, pulled out my copy of Bret Easton Ellis’ “Glamorama”, and found it on page 210. The same quote: “All the boys think she’s a spy.” (It reappears on page 532.)

So, one throwaway little phrase from a cute girl in a bar has provided a good bit of mental stimulation.

I think I’ll give Kat a call this week. If only to clarify.