My fashion tip, a living museum

I almost never notice shoes on a woman, but the half-librarian, half-lawyer shoes of a fellow foot commuter this morning in Dupont Circle caught my eye. The rest of her style matched her shoes, too: a long, graceful coat, dark red hair (dyed, but in a very tasteful way) cut short in way that was both severe and sexy, and the sharp style of glasses that I have a soft spot for. She was part business, part mousy, and every type of cool. In short, she was cute. Really cute.

Of course, I didn't talk to her, partly because we were both wearing headphones¹, partly because decency tells me that strangers meeting on the street is romantic for the movies but is not really the stuff of real-life decency, and partly because I'm well aware of my profound lack of success with hitting on women in any place at any time. Still, I kept stealing a few glances as we took exactly the same path from the circle. Sometimes I was ahead of her, sometimes behind her, and we kept crossing the same streets, making the same turns.

Just near the door of my office building, with her walking behind me, I saw my fun new officemate Marshall heading towards the doors. He saw me and suddenly started sprinting towards the door. The race was on, and I barely beat him. As I opened the door for Marshall, I turned my head to get one last look and found her looking back at me with a sweet smile that I swear melted every bit of snow left in Washington.

It's the most romantic Valentine's Day I've had in eight years. I've been in a good mood all day.

¹ I know, I know. I'm off the wagon.