Saturday, 14 June 2014

Public Transport Love: Open Letters To Attractive Strangers

Source.
I keep falling in love with women on public transport.

Mostly women on public transport in Dublin. Which is a much more culturally diverse place than the rest of Ireland. Outside of Dublin and the few other Irish cities public transport is used almost exclusively by Irish people, who aren't attractive. Unless they're from the West.

The following is a collection of open letters to several women I have encountered on public transport over the past few months, who I love.

To the woman that went out of her way to assure my friend that the LUAS would get to Heuston Station on time while she was freaking out because we missed our bus home and had to get the train instead, which was the last one:

Thank you for that. I am not particularly good at offering consolation in the face of adversity and you evidently are. I admire your altruism. But not just that. I admire your neutral English accent. It was pleasing to my ears, in a sweet but simultaneously commanding kind of way. Like you might be attracted to the idea of beating me up, but only if I was comfortable with it. Which I might be. I'm not sure yet. And you probably completely respect that.


I liked what you were wearing. Your New Balance shoes juxtaposed with your not-very-douche-baggy personality. I also liked that brief moment of eye contact between us when you accidentally touched my hand as you went to place yours on the pole to stop yourself from falling when the LUAS started moving suddenly. And that tension between us that lasted for the remaining seven minutes of time we shared.


To the woman that I'm going to say was French because I assume that every foreign-looking attractive woman is, because I have a thing for French women:

After noticing your presence I stared at you until you got off the LUAS. I hope that the two events were independent. In those few minutes that I spent looking at you I noticed several things. First of all your age is likely greater than mine. I estimated you to be somewhere in the region of 35, which could be an overestimation. I considered the possibility that you might be closer to 31, the most attractive age a woman can be, as you did seem like you were at a point where your attractiveness was peaking.

If I was right in my initial estimation then you are old enough to be regarded as a cougar in the hypothetical scenario that you and I ever see each other again (or you see me for a first time because I'm not sure if you even noticed me) and you decide that I am worth pursuing a very superficial relationship with, because I'm not really looking for any sort of romantic commitment right now. I'm sure the label 'cougar' is one you would wear with honour as one browse through the Wikipedia page reveals that they are graceful and powerful animals, as I imagine you to be.


I loved that you weren't wearing make-up. You definitely weren't wearing minimal amounts of make-up like my female friends would suggest you were if I brought you up in conversation with them. Your face was naked. Which I, like lots of other guys find more attractive than when women wear make-up. I would never bring that up in conversation with you though, or with any woman, because then they'd tell me they're not wearing make-up for me anyway and then I'd be like 'good', and then they'd think I'm being sexist.


To the woman on the bus or the LUAS, I can't really remember which, whose face I probably wouldn't be able to recognise if I ever saw it again:

Do not take it personally that I only have vague recollection of what you look like. You were very far away and it is a testament to you as an attractive person that I even noticed you through all those other people, some of which were also women. You were sitting down. Which was smart. I was standing up even though there was a lot of seats available. I bumped into a woman who thankfully didn't mind.

I remember liking your face, and your bag. It was blue. The bag I mean. I'm not into Na'Vi or
erotic asphyxiation. You spent the whole journey looking at your phone, which means you didn't see me. Unless you were looking at me through the camera on your phone. If you were, then thank you. I know how much courage is required to do something which other people might consider creepy. I am not creeped out. I am actually more flattered than I have ever been.

To the other French woman on the LUAS who I noticed and pointed out to my friend who assumed I was talking about a different woman with short blonde hair, because earlier that day I opened up to him about my confusing feelings for Brienne of Tarth:

You have possibly the best eyes I have ever seen. They are set deeply enough in your skull that you have those dark bag things under them. Like Marion Cotillard, but better. You're probably insecure about it and wish you looked different and have been making an effort to cover up the areas beneath your eyes, but if I was you I wouldn't. (See thing I said about other French woman above.)

You looked like you didn't care. About anything. But you obviously did. You had a clear plastic thing hanging around your neck with what I assume was a photo of you in it, surrounded by personal details of yours. You probably occupy some position of importance in a company. You don't get to occupy positions of importance by not caring about anything. You probably reserve your not caring for unimportant things. I need more people like you in my life.


When you left a part of me left. I might have cried if I hadn't first thought about you getting off before me. And realised the sexual innuendo in that statement, which made me laugh. If we ever see each other again and speak I'll probably overuse a similar statement in relevant situations like, for example, exiting certain vehicles, dismounting horses, logging off the internet, getting away with things 'lightly' etc.


If any of the women who I have written letters to are actually reading this and remember me and ever see me again, just pretend you don't know who I am. It will make things easier for both of us.

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