Craigslist is funny like that:
Ian was the first. It was still summer, the air heavy and moist, the sidewalks humming with the heat. I had to drive home that evening to see my family... all the way back to Maine. I'd parked up in Alewife, way up on the top floor of the parking garage. It reminded me of the days past when my parents used to drive my little sister and I down to Boston for the day. We were so little then, just tots, and we'd park at my Aunt Cathy's house nearby and take the train in for the day.
I got on the train at Arlington and took the Green Line into Park Street, only this time I crossed the unfamiliar tracks, away from Ashmont and Braintree and followed two gentlemen down the steps towards Alewife. I came out on the opposite side of the platform, disillusioned. It's like when you see yourself in a mirror and realize that what you thought your hair part looked like is actually the opposite. I crossed the tracks... I remember that I looked good, casual, hipster-hot, like I had all the coolness to battle the heat. I turned around, looked back towards the steps, and locked eyes with one of the gentlemen I'd followed down the stairs.
He was gorgeous. Tall, skinny, curly reddish blonde hair. Freckles, long lashes. Great smile. He smiled at me. I smiled at him. Shiiiiiiit.
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