Un-Wedding Crasher

So the other day I'm downtown at the courthouse trying to file some of the final papers that will close out my friggin' divorce, and I'm standing in line there waiting my turn -- when out of nowhere right behind me walks up this absolutely smokin' hot babe. She's buried in the stack of papers she's carrying and doesn't acknowledge me, but seriously -- thank you, god.

But really, when you're in a place like this, in that particular line -- it's not like saying "Hey, come here often?" is really your best play.

So I'm standing there, stealing glances -- racking my brain for something clever to say, but coming up with nothing because clearly karma was all up against me on this one.

I mean honestly, what was I gonna break out with?

"Do you need some assistance, because I'm in here all the time"
"Did you at least get to touch his backstage pass before your tour ended?"
"Hey, you wanna know what would really piss him off?"
"This is the line for zillionaire astronauts to pick up their Congressional Medals of Awesomeness, right?"
"Sandworms, mmh? I hate 'em myself."

In the end there was really nothing to say, which was probably a good thing because she was making it pretty clear that she wasn't really in the mood for any sort of conversation, especially with some leering dude who surely couldn't escape the implications of why he also happened to be in that exact same place at that same time.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure stranger things have happened -- but hot as she was, I'm not that guy.

..But damn if I didn't want to be for a hot minute there.

[Listening to:  Pressure 4-5 – "New Wave" ]