Saturday, 23 April 2011

• Strangers at a Train (Station)

  

  I was beginning to burn the candle too much on both ends and when I was invited in the beginning of June, to go to Miami for July 4th weekend, I was ordered by my boss  to make the plans. I needed to get away. He didn’t want me becoming him so early.

  When I got off the train at home, I walked my normal way towards the exit of the station and noticed 2 officers there. It was a humid, sticky June day, so I assumed that they were making sure everything was sound. As always, I remained in my thoughts and headed up the stairs.

  One of them walked around me and headed out of the station and I wondered where the other one was, hoping that they wouldn’t stop to talk to me. It wasn’t until I got to the outside that he did stop me and asked: 

  Were there any problems at Grand Army Plaza?

  No. I took the express so I wouldn’t know.

  Oh.

  I tried to head my way towards the block, but he continued....

  Have we met before?
  
  Why do guys have to start with that sentence? Really? But realizing that maybe I did go to high school with him, I looked at him dead on. He removed his glasses for the hell of it. He was a little on the short side, but he was stout. Big shoulders, tan, green-eyed and he was muscular (it wasn’t just the vest) but…

  he was soft spoken.

  No we haven’t.  Once again I made my way, but was stopped.

  You live around here?
  
  Yeah. A few blocks.

  Would you like a ride home?
  
  With all due respect, I don’t know you or your partner and I don’t know how my mother would feel seeing me get out of the patrol car.

  He continued talking to me and I tried my best to tune it out. But with him constantly removing his glasses every now and then, it didn’t help because I had always been intrigued by green eyes. And finally he asked the question, I had been mentally telling myself to answer “Yes” to…

  Do you have a boyfriend?

  No. (My eyes closed at that moment realizing I said the wrong thing, or did I? I was confused)

  He asked me for my number and I guess it had been while since I had been asked, then again, I think it was the first time I was ever asked for my number because I asked him for a pen and paper, when clearly I had a cell phone in my hand. I gave him my number and he put it in his phone and dialed it (talk about making sure I was giving him the right number) and said that was his cell.

  With that, we both split and I walked home in a daze. I walked through the front door of my house and my mother asked me what happened…I told her

  A guy just tried to pick me up.

  I had gotten on the train from work thinking about possibly landing a date with the Irish Flirt* and I had gotten off the train with another man's (a stranger's) number. There I was wondering if he would call, wondering if the Irish Flirt was doing a dance that I had similarly went through with my work husband and I had a trip to look forward to in a week or so.

  How did my single life go from 0 to 80 mph so fast?

  *A/N: I left the company I worked at with my work husband, and moved on to a smaller company where I conversed (and phone-flirted) with an older (15 years older) guy who I call the "Irish Flirt."

  Image Source

  • 1:45 PM
  • 1940 Views
  • 12 eProps
  • 7 Comments