The three taps on my shoulder occurred in such concise succession that I couldn’t blame it on an accidental move in the crowd of bodies. It was deliberate, and I wondered if my roommate or a former student was in the same car. People here don’t typically chat-up strangers. Turning a bit and looking over my shoulder, a grinning man well over six feet tall grinned fingered his tailored chinstrap.
“What’s up, punk?”
I looked to my left and to my right. “You,” he said.
“Oh, uh, hi then.”
“You know that girl on your mirror?” he continued with a grin, “She’s fine—think you could hook me up?”
I felt my eyebrows furrow. “Um...on my mirror? I’m not sure what you—”
“You know,” he winked, “on your mirror.”
I forced a polite and utterly clueless chuckle. “I don’t think I understand what you—”
“God, girl. I’m tryin’ to say you’re beautiful.”
“Oh,” I laughed. And then it really clicked and my cheeks burned and my voice sunk. “Oh. How…strange.”
His face twisted in confusion.
“I mean, thank you. That’s very---thanks. Very much.” And as the train slowed at Andrew, he leaned in a little too close and whispered, “I’m hung.”
Even though it wasn’t my stop, I barreled through the crowd and onto the musty, underground platform while he shouted “What the---” at the closing doors. As I waited at Andrew for the next train, my bewildered knight rode off into the tunnel, his big-ass sword at his side.
No comments:
Post a Comment