Dear Man on the Bus,
Your plaid shirts and Buddy Holly glasses are both a bit too trendy and oddly sexy. Your half smiles and nods are endearing, even if they are directed at the leggy blonde who gets on the bus at the same stop as me (I’ll forgive you for that, even I think she’s a bombshell. Though she is totally out of your league.).
Still, thank you for making my morning commute a bit more interesting. It has been lovely.
You may notice I used the past tense in that last sentence (or you may not, I have no idea how intelligent you are having never actually spoken to you).
You see, I had a harmless crush on you until you ruined it this morning by talking loudly into your phone about bitches and Grand Theft Auto. At 7:00am. Don’t you think that conversation was more suited to a late night Xbox session, undoubtedly from your mother’s basement?
(How quickly interest turns into disdain. And apparently stereotypes.)
Alas, I will have to find a new cutie to catch my eye on the bus from now on. But I wish to thank you sincerely for the times we shared (in my mind, because we never shared any moments, aside from your occasional discomfort at catching me staring).
Without love, but instead past casual interest,