My sister and I were talking the other day about various subjects, like we do, and we somehow got onto the subject of what guys are like when they approach you or want to get your number etc.
We both agreed that it can be incredibly annoying at times, especially when the men are too old or frustratingly persistent. Too many guys are disrespectful, which is an immediate turn off, and a large number of them are not guys either of us would be interested. I guess it links back to being selective again.
Eventually our conversation turned to an occasion when an individual did pique my interest. This was a minor event in my life, but it has played on my mind for the longest time. It is one of the few events from my past that fills me with regret.
A few years back, I was taking the tube home from university and I saw a guy that I was immediately attracted to. He was definitely my type. Although he wasn’t tall, he was taller than me, which is essential. He was a lightie with beautiful hair and a gorgeous face. His swag was on point, he looked edgy and there was something street about his persona.
I was hooked and it so happened that he was getting on the same tube as me, so I was feeling groovy. As we got on to the same carriage and sat opposite each other, I flashed him a smile. He gave a little smirk and smiled back, so I put in my earphones and remained smiling.
It started to get a bit ridiculous as our smiles went back and forth, and he continuously fidgeted around in his chair. I thought this guy is not serious, but I was entertained by the interaction on what felt like quite a long tube journey.
However, after the many smiles he finally spoke. As I took out my earphones and asked him to repeat what he had said, he told me that he liked my jeans. I was confused and a little thrown, so I asked him, “Is that what you keep looking at, my jeans?”
All he did was nod in some weird slow way as a response, so I just said okay and then put my earphones back in. He said nothing else after that, but that did not stop him from smiling, staring and shaking his head at me when he got off the tube.
I know that I should have said something else back to him, but his random way of starting a conversation totally threw me off. I should have said that I liked his trainers, because I did really like them, and I definitely should have said thank you for his initial compliment, but I somehow forgot my manners.
Changing that one simple “okay” to a different comment might have completely changed the course of that short conversation and made it go further. I don’t know what would have happened after speaking to him, because I didn’t know if he was messing around, playing games or if he was even genuinely interested.
The fact is that I will never know and that bothers me. He got off the tube at Stockwell and I never saw him on the Northern Line again, which meant that I never got the chance to rectify my mistake. It was a missed opportunity that I will never get back and that’s what I hate the most.
I know that this is something that probably comes across as so insignificant and I need to get over it, but it is one of my regrets and I can’t help that, no matter how hard I try. I just happen to be an individual who does not forget and finds it hard to let certain things go – it’s how my brain is wired.
So to the cute lightie with beautiful hair and nice tattoos from Stockwell, I’m sorry that I forgot to say thank you and I was liking your trainers. I’m actually a lot sweeter than my attitude suggested…