All I needed to hear on Public Transportation

Everyday when I wake up I carefully select my outfit. This process always begins with the mood I am in and how I wish to project myself on the world that day. Transformative, as if my outfit will somehow turn me into the person I envision myself being.
Sometimes I will elect for something a little edgy: Fishnet stockings, black knee high boots. On those days I am the angst ridden vixen who kicks ass and takes names later. On occasion I will take to the other end of the spectrum and opt for a very classic, Hepburn-esque look complete with pearl earings and a bouffant-style bun. Sure, the idea is a little a little silly and contrived, but "fake it till you make it!" seems to be my mantra these days.
Today I donned the "Sexy Susie Homemaker" getup. Polka dot shirtwaste dress, red patent leather sling-back pumps ("the headturners"), hoop earings, and tied my hair up in a messy bun with a black head band. Sexy, classy, capable. Everything I did not feel I was when I woke up this morning. Somehow I needed to mask the pit in the middle of my torso that is no longer occupied by the feelings of love and security I felt when I had a boyfriend. Put on a little lipstick, darling. Everything will be okay!
I went into work, set people up on dates, counseled some people on their dating practices, even encouraged some 'love-connections'. Made love happen for a lot of people whilst checking Craigslist Missed Connections and Match.com for any sign that there is someone out there who has an interest in loving me. Alas, nada today.
Feeling a little defeated, perhaps even jaded, I get on the 47 Van Ness. At this point my mind is screaming "Calgon take me away!" as I head back to my small apartment where I will greet my very large tub. Approaching the next empty seat on the bus, I can feel the eyes of a very well dressed elderly black gentleman follow me. He beams when I take the seat next to him.
The bus then jolts us along Van Ness and he leans in closer to me.

"Can I say something to you, ma'am?" he asks sweetly. I take a moment to assess that he is in fact, harmless and I manage to chirp out "Yes?"
" YOU ARE ONE GRADE A FOXY LADY!"
"Thank you! You just made my day!" I offered back, genuinely flattered, quite amused.

A moment later he has gathered his courage. He leans in closer to me and now, with a devilish gleam in his eye he whispers "Can I just ask you one more thing?" I'm a little sceptical but I quickly conclude that no matter what he says, the comedic value will be totally worth it. "Absolutely."
"Do you need an escort?"
"Ummm...No, thank you. I do just fine on my own." I smirk. "Well, you sure are pretty." he says as he slinks back into his seat. You can't blame him for trying! "And you are a gentleman." I say to him "You've still got it." I wink at him. He nods in appreciation.

I suppose I do too.