As I walked up to the Metro platform, I noticed a very lovely woman sitting on a bench, waiting for her train.
I noticed her with the briefest, casual glance as I walked up to purchase my ticket. I don’t stare, or ogle. Not my style. Some guys look at a woman like they’re trying to figure out a math problem. Long hard stares with jaws dropped and eyes wide open.
Never been my thing. I admire beauty as much as the next guy, but there’s no need to act like a fool or make gal feel uncomfortable.
Be cool, fellas. Be cool.
So, I noticed her. And she was looking my way.
I bought my ticket and continued up the platform. Through my peripheral vision I could still see her looking my direction even though I stopped about 30 feet away, waiting for my train and scanning the latest tweets.
Then she got up and walked over and stood right next to me.
IN MY HEAD: “Ah, it’s flattering really. Poor girl doesn’t notice my wedding ring. Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not available.”
I smiled as I kept my face in my phone, reading the latest updates about a comic book creator.
Then I noticed an odor in the breeze. A very specific “shit” smell.
I looked in the direction the wind was coming from. Someone had taken a crap on a bench. The bench beside the one the pretty girl was sitting on only a few moments ago.
Then it dawned on me…
She wasn’t getting up to be near me. She was trying to get away from the poop. In fact the person was probably pooping as I was walking on to the platform and she wasn’t looking AT me but rather AWAY from them.
Oh well. At least I know that given the choice between me or a big stinky pile of shit… the ladies prefer… this guy.
Yep. yep. yep. I’ve still got it.