I got onto the A-train around 12:30 a.m. and took plopped down next to you: a stunning brunette in fishnets, heels, and some kind of stylish plaid/white miniskirt and matching blazer. I got out my phone and furiously started playing Tank War so as not to stare while trying to think of a conversation gambit. You were listening to a pink iPod and may (or may not) have thrown a glance my way.
I thought you were absolutely gorgeous … and I would have come up with something witty to say, but alas you departed just two stops later, on the 14th St. stop.
I gazed after you as you strode off, tall and with confidence, clutching a cloth handbag … what did it say? “Shop Love Shop”? “Shop Kill Shop”? “Kill Shop Love”?
Anyway, if I was as artistic as Patrick Mosberg I might draw a better picture of you… as it is this will have to do.
That’s ME!!!! Except for the bag, and my hair is short, not long.
Geez, you are a shi**y artist.
haaaa That is too funny.