You glanced at me several times, and I at you a few times more – it was one of those awkward moments, where we both knew the other was looking yet continued to window shop with no intention to buy. We both pretended to look busy, and maybe you really were, but I wasn’t. All I did was look at you when you looked away, and pretend to write in my book. All I wrote were these words (if they’re anything at all). I would ask for you to read them but then I would break the current of this charming game we’re playing. And in two minutes I’ll leave and forget you entirely, but for this note. It was still a pleasure to meet you.