You: steno pad, Me: scarf

You, with a nice face and long, loosely-tied black hair, in dark, shiny and tight (denim?) pants, sitting at the back of the 410 bus, looking at a steno pad, balancing a computer and some sheets of paper on your lap. Me, wearing a homemade scarf and pitch-black windbreaker. I couldn't keep my eyes off you, but that would've been awkward, so I looked down at the papers on your lap instead. "Raindrops," one of them said, handwritten on top of a printout of code. Oh, how I wish I could understand what was written on that page. I got on the frontmost car of the SkyTrain, heading toward Surrey. You got on the same car, and headed to the frontmost seats on that frontmost car. I think I got off the SkyTrain before you; I never saw you again. You seem like a very interesting person. What do you do? Let's talk maybe sometime?