I get on the C train coming from Bed-Stuy. It is surprisingly empty, and so I sit. The man across from me is a wonderful sight. His dreads are pulled back from a wide smooth face. He is dressed, well, he has a style I have never seen before. It's urban, but not street, hip but not hip-hop, pricey but not flashy.

I am just sitting there enjoying him as the train pulls into the stop at Cobble Hill. When the doors open, his face lights up, like someone just set off a flash bomb inside him. The woman getting on must be a co-worker, they nod their greeting and she settles in next to me. She has great style too, and as she fumbles in her bag for chapstick, ipod, whatever, he is taking her in, delightedly. I watch him as he absorbs her, doe colored suede heels, skinny black pants, artful hair.

He so clearly has a huge crush on her it is a joy to watch him be besotted. When I stand to get off at my stop he slides in next to her and I am so happy he gets to sit next to the pretty girl.