I gave my number, completely unsolicited, to a stranger on the subway.
She sat down directly across from me and I ogled her cute self during furtive glances up from the work that lay on my lap. I hoped that magic would intervene and we would make meaningful eye contact or start talking somehow, but of course that didn't happen. I tried to surpress my feelings, as I usually do, and attempted to focus on my work.
And then a thought hit me out of nowhere. It was completely unprecedented, it was outrageous, and it was oh, so good.
I'm going to give her my number.
you full of shit.
Nope! Watch me.
I'll write it on a piece of paper and slip it to her before I slip out the doors. Teehee.
once again, you're full of shit.
I ignored the nagging little voice and went about pretending to read my book, but actually thinking of what kind of message I should write her. I'd never done something like this before, and I convinced myself that this would be more about proving the nagging voice wrong than it would be about getting a date out of it. For all I knew, she could be straight.
Two stops before mine, I noticed that she was putting her book away.
she's probably getting off at the same stop as you. what're you gonna do then, huh?
I'd considered this. And I was afraid it would happen. What if we ended up walking next to each other on the narrow platform after I'd given her the note? Or what if I got stuck next to her on one of the escalators behind a dumbfuck who didn't know that the right side was the one designated for standing, and the left side was the express lane? What if, what if, what if?
But I'd made my mind up. I was going to get my number to her, one way or another. Time to start taking action. I ripped a sheet out of my notebook and scrawled in red felt-tip pen something about her looking "fun" and then wrote my number and name.
Hands shaking, I folded it into a tiny square as the train slowed to a stop. I stuffed the note into my pocket and stood up. She left the train and I followed. One or two people got between us, but I stayed close enough without seeming like a creep. I still felt like a creep, though, because I actually was technically following her.
Thank goodness that this particular train station is home to four monstrously long escalators. Its oppressive layout was the only thing that saved my plan.
She climbed up the first two escalators. I did too. An opportunity to give it to her was going to open up very soon--I could feel it--and I was going to have to make a choice to actually do it, or back down like the chicken-shitted person I was feeling inside.
And then, right before the third escalator, I saw her slowly veer off to the side in order to stand on the right. And--could it be?--the left side was completely clear of other passengers. All lights were green, it seemed.
I then conducted a delivery that wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be. Don't get me wrong, though--it was still kind of awkward. I stood on the step next to her and tapped her lightly on the arm with my knuckles. All of this happened too quickly for me to actually think about it, thankfully, for I would have certainly stopped myself from doing it if I had allowed logical thought--aka the nagging voice--to intervene for even a fraction of a second to deprive me of my magical motivation.
She took out her earphones and looked at me expectantly. I opened my mouth and muttered a sound that was really soft and gestured my chin toward the note. I handed it to her and began climbing the escalator. She looked up at me and smiled sweetly. I smiled back.
I then proceeded to dart up the rest of the escalator and power-walk all the way to school, heart pounding, hands shaking. When I got to work, I was still all jittery and nervous.
But I also felt so giddy! I couldn't stop smiling for a while. I had proven my very self wrong.
Oh, you said that I wouldn't do it? That I'm full of shit? Ha!
yeah, but she hasn't texted you, has she? ha! ya creep.