Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word


Having switched my schedule for the week to spend time with a visiting friend, I was not met by Mr. C at the train station this morning. I was, however, met by the Ice King, sans glasses, he eagerly waved and shouted “good morning,” before I reached the platform. He was chatting with those around him about the Broncos game, and it was like watching an entirely different man. He’s quite charming and fun to talk to, but once we boarded the train I took a seat in the front of the car so I could face forward. Daydreaming and watching the sunrise, I looked out the window as we approached the Broadway station, and saw the Italian.

I’ve seen him on the train a few times. He’s well over six feet tall, dark haired, dark eyed, and mysteriously handsome. We’ve made eye contact a few times and exchanged nervous smiles, but I usually admire him from afar. Today as I watched him board the train behind me, I realized that he usually sits in the front of the train facing backwards, which means the empty seat directly in front of me was where he usually sat. Sure enough, he plopped himself right down in front of me, and softly said “good morning.” Oooh lala. He was a hottie. And his legs were so long that as he crossed them his toes couldn’t help but brush my legs. Wow, and he had great teeth.

We rode in silence, and as I tried to make the occasional eye contact he quickly looked away. I could see his reflection in the window, and I watched him glance at me a couple of times then look away. He was well dressed and smelled faintly of fresh soap. But the more I watched him and his mannerisms, I more I thought he might be gay. Either that or he was one of those beautiful, insecure, mentally unstable people. But none of that mattered, he was wonderful to look at.

As we approached the Yale station I prepared to exit the train. He gave me a gorgeous smile as I brushed past him, and I stepped off the train thinking my day had gotten off to a great start. I headed for the steps and looked for the mysterious stranger I had seen there a couple of times. He had long, salt and pepper hair, and I remembered him because the first time I saw him he was reaching the top of the stairs, with a long, black leather duster blowing in the wind behind him. He seemed an intellectual type, and although I’ve never actually spoken to him, I thought of him every time I started down the stairs. No sign of him today.

I rounded the corner to head up Yale, and not quite a half a block up the street I noticed someone walking towards me and waving. I smiled and squinted to see if I knew him, and noticed the long black duster. It was the mystery man. He smiled and approached me and said “good morning,” quite energetically. I returned the greeting and kept walking.
“Wait, what’s your name?” he asked. I stopped and turned around.
“I’m Tabatha. Who are you?”
“I’m Joey. I’m sorry to bother you Tabatha, but I’ve seen you a couple of times on the train, and I told myself the next time I saw that really cute girl I was going to ask her her name.”
Okay, that was just like something out of a movie, or a book. I couldn’t help but smile.
We chatted for a few minutes, he’s in the steel business, and I told him I worked part time for a non-profit. He asked me if it would be too forward for him to ask me to go get a cup of coffee sometime, I said no, I’d love to. We exchanged phone numbers and apparently I have a tentative date for this weekend.

Thank you universe…

January 10, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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