Bunny Ears

I love boys with undone shoes.

My iPod is on the fritz. Well, it has been for months now, but it has gotten to the point where I can't even listen to it. Every time I leave my apartment for the subway, I still throw it into my bag as opposed to one of the books or magazines I have on reserve. This leaves me with 30 minute long subway rides and nothing to do.

I've taken to watching the other people around me. Not staring but observing. On the A last week, I sat across from a boy wearing a black hoodie underneath his gray, distressed leather jacket. After jealously watching him fiddle with his Nano, my eyes fell on his gray Nikes with orange detailing. The laces were placed through the holes in a convoluted pattern that made it appear as if they were barely doing their job of keeping the shoes on his feet. The velcro strap near the toe was attached in such a way that it was still allowed to flap around. At that moment, however, they merely stood at semi-attention.

I looked back up at his face, which was partially obscured by the hands holding the Nano. He was definitely cute. But what I really liked were his shoes. The color. The way they met the hem of his slim-fitting jeans. The laces. Sure, it takes a certain level of anal retentiveness to leave your laces done yet undone in a particular fashion, but I am the queen of anal retentiveness. I favor the clean and polished. The finished. People who work so hard for the opposite intrigue me.

The train pulled into my station. He stayed in his seat as I hopped off to wait for the G and futilely tried to make my iPod produce music.