And me having lacked human interaction for a while (especially since my job requires me to work only through social media*), felt like my answer came out in a gush rather than a cool response of "Aspiring."
And I felt like a failure.
Mainly because, hell, what's stopping me from saying I am? And, well, I sounded like a provincial miss!
Mustering up courage myself, I posed the question back at him, and he went on to talk about how he dabbles in music and writing, not sure which. But I tried to talk about writing or what or what the author we just saw wrote, and I couldn't focus because I thought his coat was nice and I can't really hear well when I'm trying to think of something witty and impressive to say next.
I think I said something about at least he had feet.
What I meant was, at least he had something he was interested in.
I think I said something about at least he had feet.
What I meant was, at least he had something he was interested in.
But the elevator ride was short, and with a cheers (yes he said "cheers"), he left.
It almost seemed like he couldn't get out of there fast enough.
Oh well. No new friend for me.
Feeling: aches. Listening: keyboard typing.