I sat across from you tonight from Commercial to Stadium and tried my best not to look at you. It proved very difficult with your happily loud metal-looking friends framing your silent and calm presence like you were the protagonist of this moment. You look like the sort of man that would never talk to a woman who feeds birds and exists almost solely in shades of beige but I couldn't stop myself from taking you in. I'm sure you caught my eyes on you, and I think you leaned forward.. And then I hurried off a stop early- partly shy, partly intimidated by the situation, mostly certain my cold self would offer nothing lingering but a few words. But I regretttttt ittttttt nowwwww. You were a medium brunette with a full beard, wearing a dark (band?) t-shirt and work boots I kept staring at. I have long dark hair and was clad in a beige skirt and coat, carrying a very large pink reusable bag. I have no idea what I'd do if you saw this, but I like the notion of you knowing how you struck me.