This Is How It's Done

I woke up late today, probably because I was buzzed out from last night. Who knew that a couple of bottles of Heineken Light would be all I need to sleep tight? Anyway, when I turned to my side, it was already 8:30 AM and that was actually the time I needed to be at work. So there you go. I rushed and I rushed some more. A few minutes later, I was on the shuttle and then finally on the train.

And there I was, a little jolted but feeling refreshed from the best sleep I have had so far, for a very long time. So everything felt better and I was having one of those "I feel so effin good" days. There were a couple of VGLs (read: very good looking) guys on the train but there was one I seriously liked. Again, he's one of those American jocks that I have so been dreaming about. He's around 5'10ish and he looks really delicious. I palpitated.

I tried to make contact. I seriously did. I smiled with my eyes (and yes, Tyra, I learned that from you) but he would not just look my way. I had imagined all sorts of stuff in my head as the train moved forward. They say guys think about sex almost 100% of the time - gays are pretty much guys anyway in better looking clothes so there you go. I was almost at the verge of imagining something really really kinky when he finally looked my way. I smiled. He just looked at me.

I know it was rude to stare at people in the train especially at 9ish in the morning but I just could not help it. I felt good and he looked even better. Besides, I had my hair cut over the weekend so I look fantabulous. Anyway, he sort of gave me a stare down - the one where you feel that someone actually looked at you from head to toe. Shit. I felt harassed. I quickly turned the other way. I felt it was rude but hey, I started it.

I sort of drifted into dream land for a few minutes. The train stopped. The doors opened. From where I was standing, I looked at my American jock. He looked at me again - still I felt that he was profiling me. He still looked snotty. And it was at that point when I noticed that there was something sticking out from just behind his neck. I double checked. It read: "ARROW". I was impressed, the boy had taste.

But snotty as he was, he failed to realize one thing. I took a quick step towards him. Leaned a little and whispered something to his ear. He sort of felt a little off with what I did but I felt I had to do it. My urge was so extreme that I felt responsible for something. He was after all cute. After hearing what I had to say, he blushed and let out a very restrained giggle. I brushed it off, smiled and introduced myself. His name is Tom but to me, he will forever be Tom with the inside out shirt.

And yes, we're having cocktails soon. I just wish we have the same thing in mind.