I had this happen today on the subway on my way back from exploring North Toronto in the rain. A girl got on at St. George who completely knocked my socks off. She had a very tight lip ring on her lower lip, right in the middle. Usually I’m not into facial piercings but this one just… looked great. Black hair, bangs a la Audrey Tautou, the rest very… casually?, artfully tousled, framing her pale, heart-shaped face.

She sat across from me and continued to read her magazine, her dark eyes cast down. “Oh, thank goodness,” I thought, “I am too immediately infatuated with this complete stranger, hopefully she’s reading Us Weekly or Tiger Beat or something that will temper this insanity.” But no, it was a magazine titled Archaeology and I just about lost my shit right there. I am glad that I didn’t have to talk to her because I knew I could not… do that.

It reminded me of a strange evening a few years back when I went to the Drake with my roommate, a friend of his, and his friend’s sister. She was so bewilderingly attractive and charming and funny that I could not function properly. I was completely unhinged, drunk on this person. I had to do anything I could to make her like me. I think I made her a mix CD, though I’m not sure how I would accomplish that at the Drake. Honestly, I remember very little about her, the evening, or anything. I was just completely overwhelmed.

I’m glad this doesn’t happen on a regular basis. I’m not even sure what it is, must be some strange confluence of my mood and randomly meeting gorgeous people and the alignment of the planets. I talk to attractive women all the time, and usually do a pretty good job of a it.

Well, sometimes.

I must have done that at least once.