Click here for Part One
The man from the stop was standing next to me. Oh boy, try to be cute Vanessa. Maybe you can flirt with him.
“Oh, I am sorry, I’ll get these out of your way” I said casually. I stood up with a smile and shifted my eyes around him. No need to make direct eye contact, you have the morning commute to inspect things. Not having any type of electronic entertainment in hand, I kept myself busy by looking out the windows and the people inside of the MUNI. I love looking at shoes. Though I am not one for many pairs, I do love them. I think one can tell a lot from someone’s shoes. If they are clean, then most likely the owner is a tidy person, because shoes are hard to keep clean. He had great, trendy shoes—well kept. They accompanied his grey pants, pink polo, and white collar shirt. He is well put together.
His stance was wide for a crowed area. His legs stood apart as if to say Hey balls, time to let the testosterone out or Yes I have balls and a penis. I am a man. I loved it. He gave me an opportunity to not only check him out, but for me to show off … So, that is just what I did, or tried to do. His stance was broad and wide, his shoulders were back, and his chest was slightly pushed forward. He had this fighter stance to him. He did not walk like a boxer on his toes, in ready to sock someone mode. In fact, he stood flat footed, and completely confidence in his body. I really like the way he stands. What a man, I wish I had a dress on right now! Damn!
At each stop, I watched people come in and crowd us closer to one another. This was a great opportunity because I had to look at him to reposition myself. He did likewise. Sharing three by three square feet of space with each other did not allow for much movement. Alright so we have to get close, I thought to myself as I watched the crowds pile into the cars. Well, no biggie, just be yourself. Your confident self, Vaness. Not the “oh shit he’s looking, put your face down and pretend you are annoyed because you have nothing better or interesting to do.” Just be. I continued to look around at the sights in the underground. I looked out the window even though there was no scenery to take in, well, no floral scenery … I could see the scene he was making in the window reflection. I had let the velocity of the train take me back. I was still holding on to the pole, but my arm was extended, so it gave my stubby arms an elongated look. And every once in a while I would tilt my head back like God, I’m so tired of waiting here. I did this so my neck would be exposed. I could see his reflection in the windows—he was looking through the top of his eyes the entire time. Wow, Vanessa this is really working. You are trying to work it. Wait, is he looking at my hands?
He had been glancing at my hands for the longest time, as if he was dissecting them, and then he would smirk. Somewhere amongst my chipped nail polish and masculine veins he found something worth smiling about. How odd, I thought, I hate my hands. They look like the hands of a male midget. I became extremely insecure and purposely shot him a smile and look of Hey, I know you know you are looking at me. He quickly looked down. Oh no! I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Oh well, yes, I kind of did. Haha. I’m sorry, this should not be fun. Do not torment him. Poor guy looked red again.
