a blast from the past

Imagination is Overrated

I saw a beautiful woman at the gas station today, and I've been thinking about the event ever since. I've probably been thinking more about my role and less about hers. (She is to me, of course, just like all the others). So there I stood, filling up the tank, in the middle of one of the coldest days of the year. She pulled her car in next to me and I pretended not to look. When she popped the trunk instead of the gas tank cover, I almost caught her eye, almost. I wanted to say something, or at least smile, but I didn't. I just stood there freezing my ass off, staring away and pretending that I was content in my thoughts (I wasn't). I don't feel bad that I didn't act (what could I do really?), but I just wish I had something to write about. I guess the point of the story is that there is no point. There is never any point.