The misadventures of the heart and sometimes, the stomach.

Baby, what’s your number?

It was most probably the perfume that first caught my attention. In my lifel, I have only known two guys who smell the way you do. One being my best friend, the other my brother. So it was already a good start, and I’ve only just gotten here. It was a long wait, so I did what any other bored person would do – I stared.


 I stared at how the sunlight gets caught in your hair, making it light brown in some areas, and dark in others. I stared at how well your t-shirt sleeve envelopes your triceps. I stared at the curvature of your arms – noticed how tanned they were, how well defined. Stared at your TagHeur watch, noticed how well you wore it (guys these days have skinny wrists). I noticed that unlike everybody else you weren’t playing with an iPhone, iPod, iPad or iSomething. You were, like me, just waiting.

You were, like me, just waiting.

And I’d admit, there was a small part of me that wanted to tap you on your shoulder, to have you turn around – so I can say hello. In my mind, you must have been good looking, even if you’re not, I’d still like to say hello. A little part of me was curious about the stranger sitting in front of me. Do you play sports? What scares you? What makes you laugh, brings tears to your eyes? Do you have a girlfriend? Are you alone this Valentine’s? Do you like animals? Are you afraid of insects? Can we be friends?

 A small part of me wanted to ask for your number. And so, I mustered every ounce of courage that I had, and just as I was about to…


Number 2098, Counter 2. Number 2098 Counter 2

Ah. 2098.

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