(Not a) Creep

The gorgeous Slav
at the table beside me
tried to ignore my stares
but I was not subtle.
Eventually she turned to me,
stared blankly until I looked away
and returned to her conversation.

I wanted to tell her
not to be that way
that I was not a creep
that I wasn’t a bad guy
that she didn’t need to send me off
and we could maybe find something
in each other worth knowing.

I wanted to say more
but she wouldn’t look my way.
She didn’t have the time
or inclination
or the politesse to fake an interest.
I wish she’d have faked interest
in me.

After that meal
I never saw that Slav again
so far.

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