Dear Man on the Metro,

At first, I was flattered by the glance you gave me from inside the Metro car as I walked towards the gap. I mean, I realize I was drawing a lot of attention to myself with that bright pink hat today. Forgive a girl for feeling frivolous every once in a while.

Yes, I was very flattered, initially, because you seemed like a handsome fellow, and your type always gets more slack in that department than creepy-looking men. It may not be their fault that their features are not so well-formed, but somehow it's just less disconcerting to receive flirty glances from pretty people. It's the beady eyes one must be wary of.

Well, Man on the Metro, I felt you continuing to look as I walked into the train, and that is why I deliberately sat on the other side of the doors: to resist a temptation to peer at you myself from behind my French Lit. book. What can I say, you were also wearing a very lovely shade of pink.

However, you foiled my plan when you stood up. Why did you stand up? There were plenty of open chairs. Maybe you just needed to stretch your legs for the next 10 stops? Or was it your arms that had no room? Were you really flexing them as you continued to ogle me from the corner of the Metro car, for the next twenty minutes?

That is when I felt that your coquetry quickly proceeded from subtle to scary. And so, I am writing to request--upon your next detection of a naïve American girl--that you please exercise consideration and remain seated. Or stare less. It really did give me a fright when you followed me off the train.

Warmest Regards (figurative only),

Holly