Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer

THESE ARE MY CONFESSIONS (WARNING: Do not try this at home – I’m trained):

Sometimes when the subway is standing room only and I’m sandwiched beside a hot, young professional reading the paper and holding on to the high bar, I’ll FULLY pretend he’s my man. I take up residence in the warm, Old Spiced-nook and cranny just below his armpit,  like I’m s’posed to be there. Shoot… He never knows the difference and I’m content until Bay Station when I feign surprise that he’s got to get around me to exit the train.  *single blink*

I’m not ashamed.

Please press play: 

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