I was on my way out of the Orinda BART station when the breathtakingly handsome man standing there in the dark in the passenger pickup area raised a hand to get my attention.
I pulled off my iPod headphones and looked at him. He was slightly taller than me, and probably a good 10 years younger, with what looked like light brown hair under the deceptive light of the streetlamps outside the station. I got instantly nervous, like I always do when I’m approached by someone as beautiful as this stranger was.
He asked me the time, and I fumbled for my phone. When I finally found it in the deep pocket of my leather jacket, I noticed he had knelt down slightly and was looking up at my face, smiling.
“9:30,” I stammered.
“9:30?” he repeated. He was absolutely grinning at me, and I could feel my heart beating in my chest. “Thank you,” he said, then reached over and squeezed my arm, still beaming at me with that sexy, heart-melting grin. “Thank you.”
I turned and started walking toward the parking lot, where I’d left my car. When I finally turned around to smile back, he was gone.
I was riding my BART train into the office today, in my own little world, as usual. Sunglasses on, headphones turned up, happily air-drumming away in the back of the train car on my way to work.
