The Shirt Tag
                                
     Today was a warm day.  Spring had just begun a couple of weeks ago, but the weather
didn't show it until yesterday when the high temperature reached the upper sixties.  However, today
was much warmer and the sun even came out to say hello.  This made the one mile walk to my
classes much easier and more pleasant.
     I noticed that people are much more recognizable in warm weather than cold.  Without the
burden of hats to keep their heads warm, faces are much easier to see.  Peoples' bodies show the
variety of shape and size that isn't always obvious under their winter coats.  And people are also
much more active during this time, showing a vigor in their walk and talk which was dormant for
the winter.  Spring was here, and everyone was welcoming her.
     Around 8:15 this Friday morning, I was on the 8:15 bus which would take me to the main
campus.  I had an 8:30 speech class and, considering I wasn't giving a speech, it was going to be a
day of listening to other people.  The day hadn't gotten very warm yet, so I still had my jacket on. 
My backpack was absent, since my only classes this morning were speech and jazz band.  I just sat
there in my seat and concentrated on the music of Miles Davis, which was being fed to me by my
earphones from my cd player.
     And then, I saw her.  Who?  This girl I had a crush on.  A twenty year old having a crush? 
Maybe it's more like an infatuation.  Yeah, that's it.  Her name was Laura (I overheard her called
that name by her friends on a couple occasions.  It's amazing what you pick up if you just listen to
your surroundings).  She had short, blond hair, cut almost in a boyish looking style.  I think she had
long hair at the beginning of the year, but I don't remember.  I don't know the exact color of her
eyes, since I never got close enough to see them, but I think they're a mix of blue and green.  Her
nose, when viewed from the side, was an almost straight right triangle, with the sixty degrees as the
tip.  Her lips were fairly thin and her smile had a little bit of an underbite to it, making her smile
look almost like a bite.  Her chin jutted out slightly, providing the underbite.
     She was fairly short, which gave her body the look of someone not fully grown.  Had she
been stretched a little, she would have the perfect curves of a woman ripe and mature, with slender
arms and legs.  However, her shorter stature gave her an immature quality, with her whole body
seeming to still have some baby fat.  This, along with her almost boyish face, made her look
tomboyish and, in my opinion, very cute.
     I watched as this girl came onto the bus, walked towards the back, and sat in the seat right in
front of me.  She was wearing khaki shorts and a blue baby t-shirt, which showed off the curves she
had.  Should I say something to her?  Should I just sit there and admire her?  I didn't know what to
do, but I knew I wanted to do something.  Then, I saw it . . .
     Her shirt tag was sticking out of the back of her shirt.
     I thought, that must be really uncomfortable.  But she didn't seem to notice that it was
sticking out.  Maybe I should tuck it in for her?  Or should I just leave it?  Well, if I did something,
it would be a great way to open up a conversation.  I wanted to hear her voice.  I had heard it when
she talked with her friends.  It was higher than I expected it to be at first, but the higher pitch made
her all the more cuter.  And with that smile, made for a deadly combination.
     I imagined reaching out and tucking in the tag for her.
     I imagined her turning around and thanking me for doing it.
     I imagined saying I was welcome and asking her for her name.
     I imagined having a conversation with her all the way to class and getting her number.
     I imagined talking with her over the phone and whenever we saw each other.
     I imagined going out on dates with her and telling her how cute she was.
     I imagined me having my first kiss ever with her, and numerous other kisses with her.
     And I imagined making love with her.

     The bus started on its way and I looked at the shirt tag one more time, imagining the
possibilities.  Then, I decided not to do anything.  I knew there was no way any of that would
happen.  So, I have to settle for admiring her from afar and only imagining what could have been.  I
just wished I could fix my own shirt tag.