A Missed Connection:
I was driving home on 132nd Street around 6:30 p.m. tonight, and happened to look over at you just as you looked over at me. It was so instantaneous that my heart skipped a beat. I looked away and smiled, and wondered if you’d felt it too.
I tried to drive side-by-side with you again, to get another look. I couldn’t do it. There I was — playing cat and mouse with a handsome man in a white truck with lumber in the back — on Valentine’s Day of all days! It seemed silly. What was I going to do? Wave? It’s not like I could introduce myself and ask for your number.
Whenever I got close, I chickened out and dropped back. I’m sorry I chickened out.
I wanted that second look, that second skipped heartbeat.