Today on the metro, approximately four stops from home, someone got off the train, leaving an empty seat. I chose to stand. (Hold your applause, please.) Then a young-ish man (32?) came forward tentatively and asked, "Would you like to sit down?" He motioned to the seat and everything.
"No," I said. "You go ahead." The man sat. Ladies first, though, just like a real gentleman. As you can imagine, we started a whirlwind romance, with him treating me like a lady, and me ignoring his plain looks since they are so clearly overpowered by his kind nature. Plus he reads the paper. I like a reader.
Then I saw his wedding ring. Ouch. It was good while it lasted, and meaningful, of course. He was quite a man, that ex of mine. Good times.
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