This blogger prides himself on his refined taste.
Never more so than right now.
There was a female person sitting opposite me on the bus.
Number 10 Townsend going up Pacific.
Just past tea time.
Elegantly sculpted lips? Check.
Lovely cheeks? Check.
Radiance? Check.
An air of vulnerability? Check.
Pensiveness? Check.
Intelligent awareness in her eyes? Check.
A face that showed strong character? Check.
Right age demographic? Wrongo!
She looked like she was in junior college at best. The majority of people at that tender age cannot possibly be interested in a snarky middle-aged Dutchman. Good lord, they're still at the Hello Kitty stage of life, probably, and into texting.
It would be best if they were unaware of middle-aged Dutchmen, snarky or far otherwise.
I'll fess to snark.
Yes, there was NO evidence at all of Hello Kitty anywhere in her life. Her backpack certainly was neither decorated with Hello Kitty, nor dolled up with Kitty decals or fluffy things. And she had a thoughtfulness about her which strongly suggested that Hello Kitty was not a significant part of her brain.
In which things were clearly going on. The brain, that is. Possibly she was worrying about a school paper, or when she would have time to read that great novel she has on her bed-side table. Even whether there's anyone she can discuss things with.
No Hello Kitty.
Still, better do the gentlemanly thing and NOT catch her eye. Simply keep drinking in her lovely expressive visage by utilizing peripheral vision.
I've got excellent peripherality.
She got off three stops ahead of me.
Oh crap.
The old fossil sitting next to her was not nearly so nice to look at.
I cannot get her out of my head. Him, I've already forgotten.
Plain pink backpack. Small hands. Intelligent face.
I think her canvas shoes were red.
Not entirely sure.
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