Does He Love Me, I Wanna Know

Dear Katie,
A guy asked for my phone number the other day. It was 11:00 on a Tuesday night, and my hair was doing that damn you I'm actually curly thing cause of the rain, and all I wanted to do was buy a fountain soda (far superior to canned or bottled) from Nathan's in Penn Station. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough money, which, as you know, is the story of my life. The guy behind the counter told me not to worry about it. He gave me the soda for free, and even threw in an order of fries. As I fumbled through my wallet, confused, to say the least, I tried scrounging together some change. Then, the guy went in for the kill.
GUY-"Don't worry about it."
ME-"Are you sure, I don't want to throw off your till." (That's cashier talk)
GUY-"Yeah. What's your phone number?"
ME-"Huh?"
GUY-"Your number."
ME-"I don't know you."
GUY-"You can get to know me."
ME-"I'll bring you a dollar tommorow to pay for the fries."
I ran for cover, and waited for my train. The fries were perfect; overcooked to right amount of greasy crispiness, without being hard as rocks. The guy might not have been Don Juan, but he definately knew how to work a frymaster. I felt a little pathetic huddled in my corner of the station eating and reeling from his proposition. What if I had given my number to him? What if we went on a date? What if Linda Tripp lost a whole bunch of weight and became the next Heidi Klum? My life would be a lot different if guys who didn't sell hot dogs for a living hit on me. Yes, I think that is it.
My life would be a lot different if guys who didn't sell hot dogs for a living hit on me.
Love,
Brianna