I'm sitting next to a guy at a bus stop on Main and King-Ed and I'm dying to say something to him. He's very cute. Things that come to mind:

"I feel like a five year old, my feet don't even touch the ground"

"(as he sniffles)I know this sounds gross but if you tip your head way back it'll run down your throat"

"Is there going to be a bus soon?"

"Whatcha readin?"

But everything I think of is stupid and inane and I would just be interrupting his reading. Then again, I'll never see him again probably, so what is there to lose? I should probably plunk this book down on his lap and let him read what I've just written. Coffee some time?

So I did. I plunked down the book and said "would you?" and he said "er..sure" and read it, smiled a little and then turned really red.

"Aww, you're very sweet, but I'm gay"

Of course you are. Why else would I be attracted? For chrissakes, I'm a fucking magnet. But we chit chatted on the bus and at the stop and he gave me the name of a very good linguist and poet, Jack Spicer, who I shall look up now and enrich my life.

But I sat there for about 10 minutes stewing about whether or not to actually plunk down the book I had written this in. But I did it, eep. And I'm proud of myself for taking that chance and enriching my life because of it. I felt a rush of excitement and I actually like the person I was at that moment. I was someone who lived and experienced my life just then and it felt very very good.

Yay me!