It was an auspicious Saturday. The MTA had passengers transferring between local and express train lines because of repairs. Once in Brooklyn, I was relieved to finally be en route home. Then, the conductor played the last trick. The train was skipping a few stops, including my destination. I had to walk down a few flights of stairs to board another train. As the next train came to a stop, a striking man would notice me wearing a yellow halter dress. “Beautiful,” he thought. I took a seat in a separate car, unaware of his interest. Peering into the window, I saw the same man that had observe me a few minutes prior. At our destination, we exited onto the platform at the same time. Similar to a screenplay and cliché as it may seem, we saw each other at the same time. It’s one of those moments when other people move in a slow blur. “I’m going to love this man,” I thought. We slowly walked up the stairs, but our distance from each other was a few feet. I would frequently turn around to meet his intense stare. He’ll later joke with friends and family about his initial thoughts of me, “Hold on, baby… I’m coming.” Once outside, he gently tapped my shoulder to politely say, “Excuse me…” We walked through a park to talk about life. Then, he placed a right hand to his chest to say, “My heart… you’re different… my heart feels warm.” Read more
