LC Pod
Ten-Twenty-Ten by Generationals
Money by The Drums
I've said this time and time again that the people I board the street and subway cars with are strangers in life, but friends in commute. Day in, day out, for four years now, I brush shoulders with individuals from all walks of life, some I don't mind being side to side with because great conversation ensues, such as a lawyer whose daughter is a freelance copy editor for a slew of companies, she herself is half blind and turns out there's an asshole on this exact streetcar that pushed her down the stairs because justifiably of course, he was in a rush to get to work. He felt no sympathy for his misdemeanor as his actions were followed by a "fuck you". And then there are people like him that, for obvious reasons, I don't ever care to be single filed with. Then there are those that reak of either poor hygiene or last nights booze fest. They're more work than anything else. Then there are the talkers who feel they have just found their long lost best friend or their new therapist: the stories come gushing out. The possibilities are infinite as it takes all kinds for this world to go round.
Entering any TTC vehicle is like russian roulette. You just wait it out to see where the ride will take you and who it will bring with it. You can try to assess everyone around you as quickly as possible before choosing a seat but I've been so wrong before that now, unless it's right in my face that a particular person is going to be unpleasant, such as a man chugging listerine (that's a pretty viable sign, no ?) I just sit and anticipate.
But this morning was different. How so? Well, that would be because there was a hot piece of ass to my 2 o'clock and the only thing I could think about was how I was going to accidentally graze hands with him. You know, that subtle touch that gives you shivers down your spine and that feeling of "ooooh, that may have been accidental but now it has me thinking". That!
But this morning was different. How so? Well, that would be because there was a hot piece of ass to my 2 o'clock and the only thing I could think about was how I was going to accidentally graze hands with him. You know, that subtle touch that gives you shivers down your spine and that feeling of "ooooh, that may have been accidental but now it has me thinking". That!
So I sought out my commuting buddy. I attempted to cheat the game of TTC roulette to try and find a way to be beside this particular man for whatever length of the Yonge-University line. He was so terribly handsome that he is worthy of name in my story. I suck at choosing names and if my sister hadn't moved back home and in turn abandoned our daily conversations, then I would ask her for help on this one because she has knack for names. She has already chosen my unborn future kids' names. But, love and a husky northern male have gotten in the way, thus I am left to check an online name directory. I'll be back (you thinking what I'm thinking....terminator-ish ?!?)
K, I've chosen Andrew. On with the story.
Riding the TTC is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. Who knew you could draw reference to Forrest Gump while talking about Toronto's public transportation. There will always be that one chocolate filled with something disgustingly minty, or custard, or raspberry jelly, the chocolate that is always left behind. And then, there's the most delicious, melt in your mouth chocolate that can make any health nut want to raid a chocolate factory. Andrew was that kind of chocolate. Medium height (always an issue for me, but I was willing to overlook that), dashing, olive skin tone, strong build, strong manly hands, they looked like working hands, great dark jeans, slender fit that cupped his behind to perfection, and a 5'clock shadow to tie the look together. Oh some men and their yumminess (yup, new word).
I was so smitten that I didn't even think to look at his ring finger and that is always the the first thing I do after I've decided that I'm completely and utterly attracted to someone. No sense in day dreaming if someone else put a ring on it.
And is it weird of me to like how his leather shoulder bag had a giant rip in it ?! I just find that it speaks volumes of its carrier, that perfection isn't necessary and that they'll love something in spite of their imperfections, big tear and all.
So, the subway approaches, it screeches as it comes to a stop. The cars are packed like a can of sardines. With my smidgen of claustrophobia, I wouldn't last two minutes in there without shoving someone out of my personal space in order to breathe. I turn to Andrew, he is going for it. Not only is he hot as hell, not only does he have great hands, not only does he have this cool guy vibe to him, he is not claustrophobic. Uggggh, sexy !
At this point, it was far too late for me to even try to fit in the crowd. So what's a girl to do. Watch him of course. He shuffled around trying to find perfect crevasse to fit himself into. And then, something magical happened. The world sent me a fun little moment. Right at the very last minute, he shifted, face to face with me, he looked up and we locked eyes. The doors slowly shut, eyes still locked. The doors shut, eyes still locked. The subway slowly pulls away, eyes still locked. It's only when it was physically impossible for us to see each other that our lock broke; along with my heart. Jokes, that last part was part melo dramatic, part I got carried away with my writing.
The rest of my ride to work, I spent dreaming up scenarios of what our ride to work would have been like. Maybe we would touch knees. Maybe the subway would have jerked on its tracks making me fall onto his lap and I'd be like "oh my gosh, I'm so sorry" and he'd be like "oh that's okay, here, sit on my lap for the rest of the ride" and I'd be like "Oh no, I couldn't" and he'd be like "please, I insist" and I'd be like "if you insist" and he'd be like "will you marry me". Something like that ?! Or maybe we'd get off at the same station, both take the stairs, spark up a conversation while we walked up together, go for drinks the following night, then have babies and a white picket fence.
The rest of my ride to work, I spent dreaming up scenarios of what our ride to work would have been like. Maybe we would touch knees. Maybe the subway would have jerked on its tracks making me fall onto his lap and I'd be like "oh my gosh, I'm so sorry" and he'd be like "oh that's okay, here, sit on my lap for the rest of the ride" and I'd be like "Oh no, I couldn't" and he'd be like "please, I insist" and I'd be like "if you insist" and he'd be like "will you marry me". Something like that ?! Or maybe we'd get off at the same station, both take the stairs, spark up a conversation while we walked up together, go for drinks the following night, then have babies and a white picket fence.
So my imagination is outlandish.
All is not lost I suppose as I can always post an ad on craigslist for a lost encounter.
LCxo
