We met about 2 weeks ago, Thursday night at SeaTac, by the drinking fountain just after security. You were headed to San Diego, I was flying to Oakland. You commented on my water bottle, and somehow that turned into over an hour of surprisingly great conversation.
You invited me to grab drinks, but by the time we figured out the QR code menu, your flight was already boarding. You still offered to buy the drink, which was sweet. You asked how to spell my name when I gave you my number, and said you’d text. I said I’d watch for your message.
You work at Instagram – Product Manager, I think? and you mentioned not really using social media even though you work in it. We talked about travel (you suggested Spain), languages (I speak French, and some Spanish), and food. I teased you about loving mushy peas after you praised London cuisine.
I was in a black t-shirt, black jacket, and jeans – brown curly hair, headed to visit a friend. You held my hand for a long moment, squeezed it, and kissed my cheek goodbye. You said I smelled amazing. It all felt a bit like a movie.
If something went sideways with the number or life just got hectic, and you’re curious too, I’d love to keep the conversation going. Maybe we still get that drink sometime.
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