We were sitting opposite each other on the south-bound 2/3 train. You were the taller Caucasian woman with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, white long-sleeved shirt, light blue jeans and brown sandals with a light-brown colored pedicure. You looked like you were straight out of a modeling agency. I was the shorter, biracial guy in dark blue scrubs. We both got off at Times square and headed in the opposite direction. Kicked myself all day about not introducing myself and asking you out to coffee to get to know you.
