Some doors close, but then other doors are forced open so as not to miss your train. I saw the sweet and awkward look on your face when you apologized to the churro woman you nearly toppled dashing into the subway car. I don't know spanish, but I think she was swearing at you.

I offered you the napkin to wipe the grease from your hand and we talked from 59th to Price street. It felt like we had a really good connection. As we both got off, we said goodbye and walked away.

I turned for one last look and you turned and waved with a pout. I can't stop thinking about why I didn't ask for your number.