Let me emphasize the awkward part. The worst situation is being without a book or a window seat in a carriage with just enough people to fill all seats but with no one standing up. You can't move your arms or legs because you are arm to arm and leg to leg with complete strangers and everyone stares at their own little dot in space, trying to avoid any eye-contact. It's just uncomfortable and those were the thoughts crossing my mind when I got on the subway at Cais-do-Sodré.
A couple of stations later, however, a perk I had forgotten about appeared: a subway crush. Those fleeting crushes last just as long you and the object of your afection are in the same train. It's longer than just passing someone by on the street, but not by much. When you first notice, you are smitten. There is not enough time to focus on whatever imperfections she surely has. Of course, as soon as one of us leaves the subway, the crush disappears as quickly as it appeared.
Today's crush appeared, as I said, a couple of stations after my trip started. I was happily strumming with my fingers and tapping my foot to the music I was listening to when she enters and sits in front of me. Dark auburn hair, blue short-sleeve blouse, a tinge of preppy but not too much, headphones in her hears and also strumming along to her music (which, I'm sure, was every bit as cool as mine). Some stations later, she leaves and the crush is over. It felt good while it lasted, though, and today's boring, endless commute was less of a chore.
Note: I remember talking with Hugo Z. about subway crushes some years ago. I don't know how much of what it said made it's way to this text, so some of the credit (or blame) goes to him.
